


Blaze of Night

by Anchestor



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Character Death, Dad Gaster, Grillster, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Technically it isn't blood because monsters but it's essentially blood drinking, Vampire Gaster, Violence, tags will be added or changed if necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchestor/pseuds/Anchestor
Summary: The sleepy town of Snowdin has some new arrivals: a little family of skeletons. The father, one doctor Gaster, seems to take a keen interest in Grillby. With how alluring the mysterious newcomer is, is it really any surprise Grillby falls for him hard and fast?Too bad about the sickness going around though.And what are these markings Grillby finds on his neck?





	1. The first taste

**Author's Note:**

> I'mma tell you a secret: I'm a huge sucker for vampires.
> 
> The update schedule is Mondays or every other Monday, depending on chapter length and real life, at least for now. Might change it if it doesn't work out.
> 
> And with that, I hope you enjoy the fic! ^^

**Prologue**

He stood by the window of the dark room, looking out into the forest, the branches of the trees weighed down by the glimmering snow. The white drifts robbed the night of its shadows as they reflected the false moonlight, created by magic to comfort those who longed for the Surface.

The view was good. The house was good, he thought. Close enough to the town, for convenience’s sake, but far enough into the forest to be sufficiently secluded. Here they wouldn’t be disturbed.

The door creaked open, and he heard the dual tapping of footsteps approaching.

“FATHER?”

“Yes?” He looked over his shoulder, meeting the two pairs of eye lights glowing in the dark room.

“we’re _hungry_.”

“Soon, children.”

He turned once again to the window. There, beyond the trees, lied the town of Snowdin, the lights in its windows shining and sparkling in the night. Untouched and virginal as the freshly fallen snow surrounding it, teeming, brimming, _pulsating_ with life. Like a plump, juicy fruit, ripe for the taking.

“ _Soon_.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

The hustle and bustle of the bar sounded quiet tonight, Grillby noted absentmindedly as he polished a glass. The whole week had been pretty quiet, honestly.

“Where's the other two? I can't play with this big dumb guy alone... He'll just win!” Doggo bemoaned, shuffling a deck of cards in his paws.

Greater Dog barked unhappily.

As if to answer the question, the door opened and closed as Dogamy entered the bar, looking worse for wear. His fur was ruffled, and his eyes had dark circles underneath.

It felt weird to see Dogamy alone.

Doggo whined. “Don’t tell me Dogaressa caught it too…”

Dogamy gave a tired nod. “Sorry. We can’t play tonight.”

He walked straight to the bar. “Two bags of kibble to go, please.”

Grillby nodded, and went to the kitchen to prepare the order.

Yes, the epidemic probably was to blame why the bar had been so empty recently. It was some weird strand of the influenza, according to the paper. People that caught it became lethargic, dizzy. Thankfully, as weak the sickness left its victims, a couple of weeks of bed rest was all that was needed for a full recovery.

It had to be hard on the Dogi to fall ill in a row like this, Grillby thought, his hands working by routine. Dogamy was barely well himself, and now he had to take care of Dogaressa.

Grillby threw some dog biscuits in with the kibble portions, to cheer the pair up.

Dogamy paid and left. Doggo and Greater Dog played a few rounds of poker by themselves, until Doggo got frustrated at constantly loosing. He left in a huff, muttering something about freaking _everyone_ being sick under his breath. Greater Dog began to play Solitaire.

“No dog poker to cheer on, no music because the jukebox is still broken…” Red Bird lamented. “Ehhhhhnnnn… I wish there was _something_ going on.”

“Oh, come on, I’m sure there is something to talk about”, Big Mouth said.

“What do you g-g-guys think about that n-n-new family in town?” Drunk Bun slurred, her question not directed to anyone specific.

“What new family in town?” Red Bird asked, perking up. “How am I only now hearing about this, there’s never any new gossip!”

“’Cause you were sick!” Bun grinned, happy to have attention on herself. “The skeletons! Sis rented them a house! I saw them, they were out for a walk- And the dad is a _major_ h-h-hottie!”

“Hotter than Grillby?” Big Mouth joked.

“So h-h-hot. All tall and dark and sexy…” Bun said dreamily.

“Too bad dads are normally taken, eh?” Red remarked with a lopsided grin.

Bun shook her head intently. “Nah. He’s a _single_ dad. All mature and… responsible…”

Her voice deteriorated into incoherent, drunken mumbling.

Grillby grabbed a little water bottle from under the counter and placed it in front of Bun, deciding to cut her off.

“There you go. For your thirst”, Red quipped. The trio laughed.

Grillby idly wondered if the new family would come visit his bar sometime. It might be fun to see new faces around.

 

The bar hustled and bustled quietly. Bun kept rambling about hot guys, Red ordered another espresso, Greater Dog quickly grew bored of playing Solitaire and left. The evening slowly winded down, leaving the bar empty.

Grillby put the dishwasher running, lifted the chairs up, swept the floors. The routine of closing up required little effort. The register was quickly counted, it really had been a slow night. Clearing up the kitchen took longer.

Maybe he should do a discount evening for hamburgers, he thought as he hauled the trash outside and tossed it into the large bins. Less food sold than usual meant that the meat patties were about to go bad-

What came next happened too fast for Grillby to even give as much as a startled scream as something grabbed him, twisted his arm around his back and showed him face first against the wall, pinning him in place. Then something hard was on his mouth, silencing him, yanking his head to the side. Before the thought of fanning his flame high enough to burn had even fully formed in his head, he felt sharp pricks by his neck, and his Soul was submerged in _raw pain_.

It hurt, _it hurt!_ Like violent talons clawing at the surface, trying to maul his Soul open. He tried to scream, but the hand on his mouth blocked any sound, he tried to struggle, but the grip on him was like iron. Through the dizzying pain Grillby fought to do something, anything, but with every beat of his Soul he felt weaker. Sapped. His fire was dimming fast, his feet failing under him. If he hadn’t been pressed against the wall he surely would have sunk to his knees by now.

Then, as abruptly as he had been grabbed, he was let go and spun around, and something gripped him by the chin, by his shoulder, keeping him upright. Grillby was rendered as feeble as a new-born, his limbs like lead. Too weak to raise his hand, let alone to summon any kind of attack. He could barely keep his eyes open. Everything was spinning. The snow was white and the night was black and he was drowning in an endless sea of purple.

He heard a word, a single, softly spoken word, and it filled his head, washing away all thought like a tidal wave: “ ** _Forget_**.”


	2. Smack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby gets hit on. Or rather, hit by.

He was trekking through the snow, his steps light. Wild energy of the Verve warmed his marrow, as fiery as the elemental it had belonged to. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been this replete! He knew, of course, that the satisfied feeling would be gone soon enough, but for now, he could take the moment to bask in the fullness in his Soul. It felt good, so good! With Verve as potent as this, he wouldn’t have to hunt again for days, perhaps even a week!

He could still taste him on his teeth, that piquant taste of wood smoke and salt. Feel the warmth. The fire elemental truly was something else when compared to the dogs and bunnies of the little town. His Soul had been like a deep well, vast and strong. Of course it had been. While he hadn’t tasted one himself before, he’d heard plenty about what it was like to enjoy the Soul of an elemental. No wonder that Candara-

He almost stopped on his tracks, frowning. He made his feet walk again at a brisk pace. It hardly mattered what Candara had said. Not any more.

He tried to shake the bitter thoughts from his head. That elemental. He had a good Soul, he could taste it. Easy on the eyes, too. Perhaps there could be a little more to him than simply someone to feed off of during a hunt. Perhaps…

Yes. A Soul like that would definitely be worth… considering, at the very least.

He came to the house. Their home, for now. Warm light shone from the windows.

He smiled. His children would be well fed tonight.

 

~~~~~~~

 

There was a pleasant crunch to the snow as Grillby walked along the forest path. He hummed to himself cheerfully. That night, he’d finally be reopening the bar.

Grillby loathed being idle, which made getting sick so infuriating. His guess was that he’d caught the illness from Dogamy that one night. After all, it had been the following morning when he had woken up feeling exhausted, with a pounding in his head. He probably wouldn’t even have gotten up if it weren’t for the ravenous hunger in his stomach. Too tired to make anything proper, he’d simply showed half a loaf of bread into his face like some kind of barbaric bread goblin and gone straight back to bed to sleep off his headache.

The first two days of being sick he’d only slept and eaten, save for dragging himself down the stairs from his apartment to the bar to put up a sign about being closed for a while. He had been very grateful to his past self on deciding to live in the upstairs of his bar. Sure, it made the separation of home and workplace pretty fuzzy, but he would have hated to go outside with how exhausted he was feeling.

The third day was much better. He still mostly stayed in bed, but Grillby had more energy. He’d spent the day reading and napping, even hauled himself to the couch to watch some TV in the evening.

The day after that he had begun to slowly get stir-crazy. There was only so much lying around a person could do. He knew he was supposed to be resting, but. It was just. So. _Boring_.

Grillby supposed that he should be thankful for feeling better so soon. Most people who’d caught the illness stayed in bed for at least ten days, and here Grillby was, walking around his apartment after just four.

Well. Grillby very rarely got sick in the first place, his immune system was strong as iron. It made sense he’d burn through being ill so fast, right?

In any case, after five days Grillby had declared himself well enough to function like normal. He’d done his morning exercises, went on walks, all that. But, just to make sure he didn’t get anyone else sick, he’d resolved not to open the bar until another five days later. He was not about to handle other people’s food if there was a chance he still had some kind of bug in his system.

And now, his self-imposed waiting period was over. The prospect of finally getting to do something with himself made him happy. Having made his outing, Grillby strolled along his usual route towards the town, humming cheerfully.

 

He wasn’t the only cheerful one in the forest that day, if the delighted screams and laughter were any indication. He could hear them a few corners away. There was a snowy clearing in the forest nearby, a popular playground among the children of Snowdin.

He walked along the path, giving the clearing a glance as he passed. Yep, there were the usual snowball fight barricades, a trio of snowmen, some kids bundled in warm clothes running around-

Grillby screamed as something hard and _cold_ and _wet_ hit his face, au, au, _au!_ He quickly brought his hands to his face, trying to scrape the snow off of his skin as fast as possible. He took his glasses off and rubbed his stinging cheek with his palm. There were worse things than getting struck by a snowball, but _damn_ it still was unpleasant.

“Boys, game halt! We hit a civilian!”

Grillby heard the fast-paced crunching of the snow as someone rushed to him.

“My goodness, I am so, so sorry! Are you alright?” The unknown voice was filled with worry.

“Yeah, I’m okay…” Grillby dug a handkerchief from his pocket to quickly wipe his glasses clean from whatever snow might have stuck to them and put them back on. “I wasn’t hurt, just startled, that’s all...”

Grillby finally looked at the stranger in front of him. He was a skeleton, tall and thin, dressed in a long black coat. He had two cracks in his skull, one from the top of his head to his eye, one connecting his mouth and his other eye. His expression was concerned.

He…

He was _gorgeous_.

Grillby suddenly remembered Bun’s drunken ramblings about the new skeleton family in town. More specifically her ramblings about how hot the dad was. And. Yeah. _Damn_.

“I am terribly sorry”, the stranger said intently. “I thought that this far in the forest we could have a snowball fight without worrying about stray throws- but that is no excuse, of course. We should have been more careful.”

Now that the sting of his cheek had subsided, Grillby could really take in how odd the stranger’s voice sounded. Maybe it was some kind of accent? It didn’t sound like any accent Grillby knew.

While Grillby pondered, two children had scampered next to the stranger from behind the barricades. Aside the obvious fact that they all were skeletons, the family resemblance was clear: the slightly taller of the two boys had the slender figure of the father, the shorter one had inherited the big, round eye sockets and the fused jaw. The charming features seemed to run in the family, the boys looked like they would grow up to be two handsome young men someday. Grillby couldn’t quite pin how old they were. Older than ten, but not by much, he guessed.

“Children, did either of you see who threw the snowball?”

“IT WAS MINE, I THINK”, the taller boy said, shuffling apologetically. “I’M SORRY, MISTER.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it was an accident.” Grillby put a smile on his face. Sure, snow stung, but he didn’t want to upset the kid.

“So, I’m guessing you’re the new family in town?” he switched the subject. People fussing over him was always so awkward.

The dad gave an amused smile. “News travels fast, I see.”

Grillby shrugged, a small grin on his face. “Eh. It’s a small place. When there’s gossip to go around, people make the best of it.”

“I see”, the dad nodded, folding his hands behind his back. “Well, you are correct, my sons and I moved here a while ago. It’s a lovely little town, I must say.”

His eye sockets went wide, as he seemed to get an idea.

“You know, I hear there is a delightful pub called Grillby’s nearby, I’ve been meaning to pay a visit since we arrived. Perhaps I could treat you for a cup of coffee there, as one last apology?”

Grillby chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that would really work out.”

The other’s smile dropped. “How come?”’

“I’m Grillby”, Grillby grinned.

The dad laughed. “Oh, I see! Goodness, where are my manners, I completely forgot to introduce myself.”

He gave a small bow. “Doctor W.D. Gaster, at your service.”

“I’M PAPYRUS!” the taller boy announced. “AND THIS IS MY BROTHER, SANS!”

“heya”, the shorter boy said with a small wave.

“Nice to meet you.” Grillby nodded, committing the names to memory. Doctor Gaster, Papyrus, Sans. He wondered what W.D. stood for.

“Well, I think I should get going. I’m opening the bar soon. So if you want to try the coffee yourself, you’re welcome to drop by”, he said. A little self-promotion never hurt.

“Why, thank you for the invite. Perhaps I will”, Gaster said, a charming smile lighting up his face.

( _Hot damn_ that was a good looking skeleton.)

“So, I guess I’ll be seeing you around”, Grillby said as a goodbye when he began to walk in the direction of the town.

“Oh, definitely”, Gaster said.

“BYE-BYE!” Papyrus waved.

“see ya”, Sans nodded.

With that, Grillby left, contemplating the little encounter with the skeleton family. They seemed nice.


	3. Sampling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a skeleton walk into a bar, and enjoys a cup of coffee.
> 
> Also we learn more about the skeleton family from a narrator that is most definitely a reliable one.

Sure enough, no later than that very evening, as Grillby stood behind the bar counter, polishing a glass, Gaster walked into his bar.

The skeleton looked around as he entered, taking in the room, giving a polite nod to those whose eyes he met. He made a little detour to check out the jukebox, a small frown flashing across his face when he noticed it was broken. Finally, he settled on one of the seats at the bar.

“Good evening, Grillby.”

“Evening, doctor Gaster”, Grillby greeted.

The skeleton chuckled. “Please, there is no need to be so formal. Just call me Gaster.”

He rested his hands on the bar counter. Now that Gaster wasn’t wearing gloves, Grillby noticed he had round holes in his palms. Maybe it was a skeleton thing?

“I must say, this place truly does live up to its reputation. It’s very…” Gaster paused in search of a word. “…homely.”

“Don’t make up your mind before you actually eat something”, Grillby said, handing the skeleton a menu. Still, his flame fluttered warm colours. Compliments always felt nice.

“Hmm. I’m afraid I’ve already had dinner.” Gaster glanced at the drink selection. “But a cup of coffee would be lovely.”

He put the menu away. “No milk or sugar. Make it strong, please.”

Grillby got to work, and the coffee was quickly done.

“Mmm. There are few things that smell better than freshly brewed coffee, don’t you think?” Gaster brought the cup to his mouth, but jerked away as soon as his teeth made contact with the coffee.

“Still too hot”, he said, placing the cup back down.

Grillby began to polish a glass. Gaster stirred his coffee with a spoon.

“I’m sorry, but may I ask you about a few things? I haven’t yet had much of a chance to familiarize myself with the town, and I’d appreciate the local knowledge.” Gaster looked up to Grillby, and _goodness_ was his smile charming. “But of course, I wouldn’t want to be a bother when you’re working, so if you’d rather not, I completely understand.”

Grillby looked around the room, weighing his options. Unless a dozen more customers suddenly burst through the door, this was going to be a slow night. He had time to chat. And besides, being a little extra nice to the newcomers was the neighbourly thing to do, right?

“Sure. What do you want to know?” he finally said.

Gaster nodded gratefully. “What would be things one should absolutely see in Snowdin? Particularly anything children would enjoy?”

“Well, Snowdin is a sleepy little town, there isn’t much to do.” Grillby shrugged. “I guess the library is worth seeing, and the forest has some stuff, like the ice rink and the ball game. But that’s pretty much it, honestly.”

“A sleepy little town…” Gaster repeated to himself. “That does actually sound quite nice. Sure, there is a lot to do in the Capital, but it’s just so crowded and noisy all the time. There is barely enough room to breathe.”

“You’re from New Home?” Grillby asked, his flame flickered and sparked.

Gaster nodded, tilting his head. “You sound surprised.”

“I mean, people usually move to the city, not away from it.” Snowdin was pretty much as in the middle of nowhere as you could get in the Underground.

“Well, we’re not really moving here, not permanently. This is more of a… lengthy vacation.” Gaster propped his cheek on his hand, idly stirring his coffee with the other.

“I work at the royal laboratories, and it can be very taxing. Lots of late nights… And there are only so many hours left in the day for family. A complete change of scenery felt like a good idea. So, I chose to have a little sabbatical. You know, take some time to spend with the boys before they decide that their old man is totally lame.”

Grillby grinned a little at Gaster’s impression of a teenager.

Gaster chuckled. “Oh dear, look at me, just pouring half my life story in your ear.”

Grillby gave a noncommittal shrug, a few warm, amused streaks flashing through his flame .

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with my ramblings. But it’s easy to slip when one meets such a good listener”, Gaster said apologetically.

“It’s fine”, Grillby said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. Listening others talk at him about whatever they had on their heart was a part of the job. And besides, even if Grillby wasn’t as much as of a gossip as many in the town were, he was admittedly curious about the new arrivals.

“You work at the royal laboratories? That sounds cool”, Grillby said to fill the silence.

Gaster’s eye light’s twinkled with excitement. It looked kind of endearing.

“Oh, ’cool’ doesn’t even begin to describe it! The labs have access to the brightest minds of the Underground, the very front seat to any development in Soul science-”

 

And so the evening continued. Gaster turned out to be an excellent conversationalist. Grillby had never been the chatty type, but something about how Gaster conducted himself made him so very easy to talk to. And talk they did, about libraries, about misspellings, about Chinese food, about Gyftmas traditions. Just simple, light conversation where one thing always led to another, only ever shortly interrupted when Grillby had to actually do his job for a bit. Hours passed without him even noticing.

“And one year, the theme was ‘games’, and Ice Cap made an entire playable chess set!” Grillby explained, as the conversation had somehow gotten to Snowdin’s annual Snow Fort Event.

“We even held a little tournament, Gyftrot gave the trophy they had sculpted as a prize for it, and guess who won?” He continued, placing a hand on his chest proudly.

“Congratulations”, Gaster said, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“So, since it was an ice sculpting competition, the trophy was, of course…”

“Also made of ice”, Gaster finished the sentence, grinning as he guessed where the story was going.

“The thing melted before I even got home”, Grillby said, shaking his head at the memory.

Gaster laughed. It was a nice sound. A little weird, the way his accent hiccupped and garbled, but it was a nice sound.

“You know, I have this _beautiful_ chess set at home”, Gaster began. “It’s astronomically themed. The different pieces are coloured based on the different planets, and the pawns are based on stars, and the board has this gorgeous galaxy pattern on it. I found it at the dump, and it took days to restore it and to craft replacement pieces for the ones that were lost, but my goodness was it worth it.”

“That sounds amazing”, Grillby said.

“You should come over some evening, I’ll show it to you.” Gaster had a look of earnest excitement. “I’d be thrilled to play against Snowdin’s reigning champion.”

Grillby blinked, surprised by the offer.

Sure, Gaster seemed like a nice person, and he’d been a blast to talk to over the evening, but he was already inviting him to his house for a visit? They’d met for the first time that very same day! He couldn’t just go with some stranger-

And then again, that way Gaster was looking at him, relaxed, eager, that charming smile tugging at his mouth, his eyes sparkling purple…

“ **Please?** ” he said, his voice soft.

Grillby blinked. Of course he’d go. How could he say no when Gaster was asking him so nicely?

“That sounds great”, Grillby said. It wasn’t often he got to play chess against someone new.

“Most wonderful.” Gaster sounded so happy. “May I have your phone number? I’d like to be able to contact you in case something unexpected happens.”

They exchanged numbers, and agreed on a day and time.

“Most wonderful”, Gaster repeated, smiling. “I can hardly wait-”

His sentence stopped abruptly, his smile dropping. He took phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.

“Oh dear, how on earth did it get this late already? I need to get home before to boys start worrying.”

Gaster gathered himself off the barstool.

“I’m sorry to leave so suddenly”, he said, quickly paying for his coffee. “But rest assured, I had a wonderful evening tonight. It truly was a delight talking with you.”

Grillby gave a few flustered flickers and sparks. He received compliments about being a good conversationalist rarely, if ever.

Gaster headed for the door, but as he was about to step outside, he lingered, and turned.

“Good evening, Grillby”, Gaster said softly over his shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.

“Good evening”, Grillby answered with a little wave.

Gaster disappeared into the night.

Grillby sighed, smiling to himself. He might have been nervous about accepting the invitation, but now he realized he was looking forward to a few rounds of chess with Gaster. If things went half as well as they had that night, he was in store for a fun evening.

Grillby reached for a glass to polish, when a lonely cup caught his eye.

Well, would you look at that. Gaster had been so engrossed in their conversation, he’d completely forgotten to drink his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still undecided if the next chapter should wait two weeks or be broken into two of these really short ones. Ghng. If there is no update next Monday don't panic, it just means that the next chapter will be a lengthy one.


	4. Invited in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby gets to have a brief look at the magnificent skeleton residence, and there are just as many castles as there are windmills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters in, and we're clocking in out very first Tanz der Vampire reference! I'm so disproportionally happy about this you guys! TdV is what truly ignited my fondness for vampires, there will be many more more to come ^^

Bundled in a warm coat, soft snowfall around him, Grillby walked along the small forest path. He couldn’t recall ever strolling around these parts of the woods, there wasn’t really much to see here like there was along the bigger route towards the Stone Door. No guard stations, no ice rinks, no puzzles even: just the spruces and the snowfall. It was kind of nice, actually. Quiet. Peaceful.

Eventually the path ended, and he came to a house. It was a two-story building, a bit on the larger side, with a quaint little chimney on the roof. The house had originally been built twenty years or so ago by some wealthy bear monster who’d since moved to New Home. Now it belonged to Bunna, the innkeeper, who rented it to people staying in Snowdin for longer stretches. This Grillby had found out during what had definitely been normal light small talk with the shopkeeper and not snooping.

He raised his hand to knock- and stopped.

Which was silly, or course.

This was just a friendly visit. To play some chess.

At the house of a new acquittance.

And it was just Gaster. Nice, fun, charming Gaster. Admittedly very handsome Gaster, but still, just Gaster.

Nothing to be nervous about.

He knocked.

“Coming!” sounded from the inside, in that odd accent the Grillby easily recognised. The door opened.

“Well hello, Grillby. You’re early”, Gaster said cheerfully. He was wearing a light grey turtleneck and black slacks, but still somehow managed to look sharply dressed. How on earth could that man pull off a sweater like it was a suit?

“Do come in”, he said, gesturing for Grillby to enter.

“I wanted to make sure I had some extra time to wander in case I got lost”, Grillby explained as he stepped inside and began to peel off his coat. “But the path turned out to be pretty straight-forward, so. Here I am.”

“I’m glad you found your way. And besides, if you’re here early, that’s just a bit more time we get to spend together.” Gaster smiled. “Would you like a little house tour for starters?”

“Sure”, Grillby nodded as he stepped out of the hallway.

“So, welcome to our little bachelor pad”, Gaster said jokingly, waving his hand in a large gesture. “This is the parlour.”

It looked like a fairly standard living room: a television, a green couch and a matching armchair, and a low coffee table with some puzzle magazines on it. Off to the side stood a large bookshelf.

“Pretty impressive”, Grillby said as he moved to inspect the bookshelf closer.

On the lowers shelves there were what looked like photo albums and board games, then some heavy-looking books about thermodynamics, advantaged calculus and quantum physics. On the higher shelves there were some classics like Frankenstein and a short story collection by Edgar Allan Poe, as well as some lighter looking non-fiction like a biography of Sakharov (whoever that might be), and a small stack of movies.

But the eye level of the bookshelf was completely dedicated to picture frames. Photos of Sans and Papyrus with missing teeth. Baby pictures. Only one had the whole family: It looked to be taken in Hotland, with the large mechanical structure of the Core in the background. In it, Gaster stood behind the two children, a hand resting on the shoulder of each boy, smiling proudly.

“This one is my favourite.” Gaster picked up one of the picture frames, and handed it to Grillby. It was a sibling portrait, by the looks of it taken when the boys were fairly little, maybe around kindergarten age. In the picture Papyrus was smiling brightly, fully posing with an arm wrapped around his brother, while Sans looked at the camera with the all the grumpiness his small frame could muster.

“Papyrus looks so exited, and Sans just wants to go already”, Gaster chuckled.

“Cute”, Grillby grinned, and carefully placed the photo back to where it had been.

The house tour continued to the kitchen. The room was spick-and-span, not a crumb or stain in sight. It almost looked like something out of an interior design magazine.

“You don’t cook a whole lot, do you?” Grillby asked conversationally.

Gaster gave surprised sort of blink. “What makes you say that?”

“Your cutting board, your spices-your everything-they are all in the cupboards and not at hand. And no kitchen that is used often is this clean.”

“…Well, you are correct”, Gaster slowly admitted. “Keen eye.”

Grillby shrugged, feeling a little bit smug about having been right. “Just an educated guess, really.”

“I’ve never had much talent for the culinary arts. Thankfully the boys aren’t particularly picky”, Gaster said. “Now then, how about we go upstairs?”

Up the stairs they went. Gaster showed Grillby his room. Gaster clearly favoured darker shades: the bedsheets were a deep wine red, the writing desk mahogany, the carpet black. Grillby spotted a book on the nightstand.

“Advanced powerplant engineering? Please don’t say that you have this here as just some light reading”, he said, shaking his head.

Gaster smirked. “Alright. I won’t.”

There was a very noticeable silence in the air.

Grillby chuckled before the silence got awkward. “Alright, doctor Smartguy. Does the tour still continue?”

They went to the hallway. Gaster pointed out a large painting of a bone on the wall. “To remind what’s the most important in life”, Gaster said.

There was one last door by the end of the hallway. It had warning signs taped on it drawn with markers. ‘NO GIRLS ALLOWED! NO BOYS ALLOWED! PAPYRUS ALLOWED (AND SANS TOO)’, they read.

Gaster knocked. “Boys, Grillby came over, I’m showing him the house. May we come in?”

“YES!” came the answer from the inside.

Gaster opened the door.

The room was about what Grillby expected. Two beds, one on either side of the room, a colourful rug, a bookshelf, posters and glow in the dark stars on the wall, a desk with an army of carefully organised action figures. Amusingly enough, there was a clear split down the middle of the room: one side was messy with socks and comic books left lying around, the other immaculate.

Sans and Papyrus were sitting on the floor, building some kind of castle out of legos.

“HELLO, GRILLBY!” Papyrus greeted, pausing his task of organising a squadron of little plastic knights on the battlements.

“Hi”, Grillby greeted. “What are you to two doing?”

“WE’RE BUILDING A FORT FOR THE SPACE KNIGHTS OF QUEEN GALAXIA!” Papyrus explained, picking up a small doll that was dressed in a silvery dress and had little sword stuck to her hand with blu-tack.

“her base is on neptune, so i made a windmill”, Sans said, eyes fixed on the contraption in his hand. “but i don’t think it’s working properly.”

“Would you like for me to take a quick look at it?” Gaster asked.

Sans hesitated, then nodded, handing the small windmill to Gaster.

Grillby watched over Gaster’s shoulder as he inspected the device. It was blocky thing with wires that had a little light bulb at the top. It lit up when Gaster spun the blades with his finger.

“Very impressive, Sans. You did an excellent job”, Gaster said. “I think the problem is with the sails, they’re a bit too crooked. Try straightening them a little, and see if there are any lighter pieces you could use.”

Gaster gave the contraption back to Sans, who immediately began to rifle through the box of legos.

“I suppose we’ll leave you two to it, then. Oh, and Sans?”

“hmm?”

“Pick up your socks.”

“mmm”, Sans answered non-commitally.

“We’re downstairs if you need anything.”

“YES, YES!” Papyrus made a shooing motion towards them “GO HAVE YOUR ADULT PLAYDATE ALREADY!”

Grillby sputtered blue at the wording. Gaster didn’t bat an eye.

“We will, we will”, he said, leaving the room. Grillby gave an awkward wave of goodbye to the two boys and staggered after him.

“’Adult playdate’?” he quoted, in a voice that was meant to sound amused but instead was just panicky enough to make Grillby worry that Gaster might notice. This was not a date! Right? _Right?_

“I mean, he is technically correct”, Gaster said nonchalantly as he descended the stairs. “A meeting between two grownups for the purpose of playing a board game could be described as an ‘adult playdate’.”

He paused.

“Although I do admit that the phrase does have a certain _connotation_ …”

Gaster turned to look at Grillby. There was that smirk again.

“But all in due time. For now, how about a nice game of chess?”


	5. Decisions, decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chess, Monopoly, and pronoun games!

“Watch your bishop.”

Grillby looked at the board intently. His bishop? Oh, he could see it now. Gaster would be able to take the piece, and after that Grillby’s queen in a few turns. Unless, of course, Grillby used his rook to intersect.

“You have a strange playstyle, you know that?” Grillby remarked offhand as he moved the rook.

Gaster smiled giving a non-committal half-shrug, rescuing his now threatened knight out of harm’s way. “It’s not just the victory, Grillby. It’s the thrill of the chase.”

“If you say so.”

The chess set was just as beautiful as Gaster had said. The pieces swirled the colours of their respective planets, with accents of black and white to mark which side the pieces belonged to. The starry pattern of the board made the grid hard to see, but is was so nice to look at that Grillby didn’t mind.

The first two games were played fairly normally, Grillby winning one and Gaster the other, with light conversation filling the air. After that Gaster changed gears. Instead of straightforward play, Gaster began to set up complicated traps. The matches became drawn out as Gaster toyed with Grillby’s pieces, their symbolic armies dancing in little games of cat and mouse.

And to his surprise, Grillby kind of enjoyed it. No matter how intricate Gaster’s ploys were, Grillby always found a small gap he could use to wriggle out of trouble. It was like an elaborate, ever evolving puzzle for him to figure out.

For instance, Grillby noticed that the complex offense Gaster had been setting up had left a stunning opening in his defences. “Check.”

Gaster smirked. By the time Grillby noticed his mistake, Gaster had already moved his queen across the board.

“Checkmate.”

With a small sigh of smoke, Grillby knocked his king over in defeat.

Gaster began to gather his pieces from the board. “Would you like a rematch to defend your honour?”

Grillby leaned back on the couch, rolling his shoulders loose from being hunched over the coffee table so long. “Nah. I think I’m pretty out-chessed for now.”

“We could play something else, if you’d like”, Gaster suggested as he packed the chess set away. “Hnefatafl is an interesting strategy game, and of course there is a plethora of board games available. Although those might not be all that fun with just two players. Unless…”

Gaster gazed up the stairs. “We could ask Sans and Papyrus if they’d like to join us.”

Grillby tilted his head in consideration. He didn’t quite feel like excusing himself yet, he was having a good time. A board game could be fun.

“Sure”, he nodded.

“Excellent. Why don’t you pick something, and I’ll go get the boys.”

Gaster disappeared up the stairs as Grillby knelt in front of the bookshelf. Maybe he should go for something less strategy-heavy and more luck-based, for the sake of a more even game for all four of them. Monopoly, maybe?

Loud stomping disrupted his musings.

“GAME NIGHT! GAME NIGHT!” Papyrus chanted as he ran down the stairs.

“Careful, Papyrus” Gaster chided as he descended after the boy, Sans in tow. “We wouldn’t want you to trip and crack your skull, now would we?”

“yeah, don’t get a _head_ of yourself”, Sans said. “we wouldn’t want you _skulking_ because you’re hurt.”

“BROTHER!” Papyrus groaned. “MUST YOU FLAUNT YOUR LAZIEST PUNS IN FRONT OF A GUEST!”

“i’m not gonna put out some _fibula_ version of myself out there to impress someone. besides, Grillby seems like a _chill_ guy”, Sans retorted.

At that, Grillby snickered, his flame giving out a few amused sparks. While he had heard all the fire- and heat-based jokes you could imagine a thousand times, the occasional against-type ones still managed to catch him off guard.

“see? he gets it”, Sans said with a grin.

“HMPH!” Papyrus crossed his arms. “I JUST WISH YOU’D PUT MORE _BACKBONE_ INTO YOUR JOKES!”

“Boys, boys”, Gaster placated, and judging by his tone this kind of bickering wasn’t an unusual occurrence. “Let’s just play something, alright? Grillby, did you find anything to your liking?”

“How about Monopoly?” Grillby asked, pointing to the box.

“Splendid idea.”

The board was quickly set up, everyone sitting on the floor for the sake of space. The skeleton family clearly had regular tokens for themselves, as Sans picked the race car, the dog, and the battle ship from the box without prompting. After brief consideration, Grillby selected the top hat for himself.

“So, do you usually play with the rule that the youngest player starts?” Grillby asked.

“YES!” Papyrus snatched the dice and rolled, shoving the race car forward. He bought the space he landed on.

Grillby glanced between the two boys. He would have guessed Sans to be the younger one, Papyrus was a little taller after all.

“How big is your age difference, actually?” he asked.

“eleven minutes”, Sans said as he rolled. “i’m the older bro, even if paps is the big bro.”

“IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE AWAYS HUNCHED OVER YOUR BOOKS! YOUR BONES DON’T GET ENOUGH EXERCISE!” Papyrus chastised.

“Maybe you’re just a late bloomer. Just remember to drink your milk, I’m sure you’ll catch up”, Grillby tried to pacify.

Sans snorted. “yeah. that must be it. i just don’t drink enough milk. thanks for the tip. i’ll keep that in mind.”

“ _Sans_.” Gaster was giving the boy a look to accompany his tone of thinly veiled warning.

Sans rolled his eye-lights. “yeah yeah yeah.”

There was an odd little silence in the air, pregnant with a meaning Grillby couldn’t decipher.

“How do you two like Snowdin so far?” Grillby asked, to keep the conversation going as they played.

“OH, IT’S FANTASTIC! THE SNOW IS GREAT, AND THE SHOPKEEPER IS REALLY NICE, AND IT’S QUIET AND SPACIOUS AND IF YOU GO TO THE FOREST THERE IS NOBODY TO BE FOUND FAR AND WIDE!”

“i like the library”, Sans said. “it’s not as big as the one in the capital, but it’s got different books. and i like the crosswords in the paper.”

“BHAH!” Papyrus scoffed. “CROSSWORDS ARE FOR BABY BONES! THE WORD SEARCHES ARE A MUCH MORE REFINED PUZZLE! GRILLBY, DON’T YOU THINK SO?”

“…I actually prefer crosswords”, Grillby said after a moment of hesitation.

Papyrus gasped theatrically. “NOT YOU TOO!”

Sans’s smile turned just a bit self-satisfied. He raised his hand, and once Grillby figured out what Sans wanted they shared a little fist bump.

“Gaster, where do you stand? Crosswords or word searches?” Grillby asked.

“Sudokus.” Gaster didn’t even look up from his property cards.

“That’s a pretty diplomatic answer”, Grillby said, his tone amused.

Gaster made a non-committal noise, but Grillby could notice a bit of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I just prefer logic puzzles over word puzzles.”

 

The dice clattered against the board, tokens travelled across the properties, cards and paper money changed hands. While Grillby had been a bit worried about making conversation with the two children, his concern was proved unfounded. Sure, they were a quirky little pair, Papyrus with his brashness and Sans with his off-beat sense of humour, but Grillby found himself warming up to them. The conversation flowed easy, for most of the time. And whenever things seemed to venture into places where one or the other had nothing to say, be it Grillby shifting towards work-talk that bored the children or Papyrus ranting about some show he liked that Grillby had never even heard about, Gaster was quick to nudge things back to a topic where they all had common ground in.

Grillby was having a good time. Monopoly didn’t require nearly as much concentration as chess did, so it was much easier to talk over. It was nice, to just hang out like this.

The fact that he was winning didn’t exactly hurt his cheery mood.

“Welcome again”, Grillby teased cordially as Gaster’s battle ship landed on his property that just so happened to have a hotel on it. “The rent’s the same as the last two times-”

“Yes, yes, I remember.” Gaster looked intently at his meagre funds, calculating.

“Hmm. Perhaps we could sort an… _alternative_ arrangement to settle this?” he continued.

He voice had dropped into a lower tone. His gaze was half-lidded as he sat across the board, relaxed.

“Arrangement?” Grillby asked, careful to keep his voice even. What was Gaster getting at?

“I think I could give you something you’d like.” His smile almost… tempting.

“S-such as?” Grillby could feel himself flushing.

With one swift, elegant motion Gaster picked up one of his cards, holding it up for Grillby to see.

“The one last railroad”, he said in a singsong voice. “You’d have the full set of four with this one.”

Grillby breathed out relief washing over him. Not flirting, then. Or course not.

…Why did he feel just a sting of disappointment though?

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Sounds good.” Grillby just wanted to get the game rolling again. He hoped his flame wasn’t acting up.

While the deal with Grillby did buy Gaster some time, he was eliminated from the game in a couple turns. Thanks to a few unfortunate dice rolls, Papyrus followed soon after. However, the winner of the game ended up being Sans.

“HOW DO YOU ALWAYS WIN!?” Papyrus complained, crossing his arms in a huff.

“it’s all about knowing the math, bro.” Sans smiled smugly.

“Well done, well done”, Gaster said, beginning to gather the cards into a stack.

Grillby glanced at the clock. How had it gotten so late all of a sudden?

“I should probably get going if I want to get home before dark”, Grillby said.

“Yes, I suppose I should start herding you two towards bed as well.” Gaster glanced at the boys.

“BUT I’M NOT TIRED!”

“Sweetheart, you’re never tired.”

“Do you need help cleaning up first-?” Grillby offered.

“No, no, I’ve got it”, Gaster assured.

So, Grillby headed to the hallway to put his shoes and coat back on. Gaster hovered by the door, ready to send him off.

“This was fun. Thanks for the invite”, Grillby said. And he really meant it.

“Thank you for coming over. It was nice to play chess with an actual adult for once.” Gaster smiled.

There was a beat of silence between them. Grillby felt like he should say something. He didn’t know what.

“Well, good night, then”, he said a little awkwardly as he opened the door to leave.

“Good night, Grillby. Get home safe.”

Something about the way Gaster said those words left them ringing in Grillby’s head as he walked through the darkening forest.

Get home safe.

It was such a simple thing, meaningless pleasantry, really. But it still made Grillby feel warm, and his flame burn bright.

 

~~~~~~~

 

He staked the cards carefully, sorting them so that they’d be ready for the next game, whenever that might be. Sans returned the paper bills to their respective slots, Papyrus put the dice and the tokens into a small zip-lock bag to make sure they didn’t get lost.

“Well then, children. First impressions?” He asked.

“he didn’t blow off when paps hit him with the snowball, that’s a good sign”, Sans said. “and yeah, he seems cool.”

“HMMM.” Papyrus’s jaw was clenched tight, and he was being a little too meticulous about making sure the little zip-lock bag didn’t have too much extra air in it.

“Sweetheart? Is something wrong?”

Papyrus fidgeted, very carefully avoiding eye contact.

Gaster sighed. “Listen. If you truly do dislike Grillby, this will be the end of it. But I’d at least like to know why.”

“IT’S YOUR DECICION…” Papyrus was stalling.

“But it will affect you too.” Gaster looked at him expectantly.

“IT’S NOT ABOUT _HIM_. IT’S JUST-” Papyrus wrung his hands.

“HE’S GOING TO BE _TIME-CONSUMING_ , ISN’T HE?”

At first, Gaster said nothing, as he weighed his answer.

“That is true”, he admitted. “But…”

Gaster picked one of the plastic hotels in his hands, the bright red a stark contrast against his white bone.

“Think of it as an investment. Yes, Grillby will be, as you put it, time-consuming at first. But, if this works, it will greatly cut down the time I’ll need to spend hunting in the long run. And all that saved time we can spend together. Besides, the less impact we make on the town as a whole, the less we draw attention.”

Papyrus’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he settled his hands on his lap. “AND WE WON’T HAVE TO MOVE AGAIN SO SOON.”

“Exactly.” Gaster placed the plastic piece back into the box and folded up the board.

“So, would you be opposed to having Grillby around?”

Papyrus shook his head. Good-

“but what do _you_ think of him?”

Gaster was surprised by Sans’s question. “What do you mean?”

“you said he’d be good for this because he’s an elemental. but do you, y’know”, Sans shrugged. “like him?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t try to pursue anything with him if I didn’t find him…”

Fetching. Endearing. Courteous. Winsome.

“…Appealing.”

Yes, appealing.

Papyrus had been right about this being time-consuming. Gaining the trust and the affection of someone was no fast process. But…

He had the keen feeling he’d quite enjoy enticing Grillby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, with the target approved, the schemes truly begin.
> 
> Despite this being technically a Halloween fic, it's way too long to fit into October, so stick around! We'll see when this is actually finished. Hopefully sooner than next October :P In the meantime, I think these short-ish chapters once a week will continue.


	6. That crimson liquid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby is an infatuated dumbass, and most of the things Gaster says are true

Grillby was half-awake when his phone buzzed. He was still in that fuzzy state between sleep and consciousness, that state where he was alert enough to enjoy the comfortable softness of his bed but not quite ready to get up and face the day. A single buzz. That meant a text. And a text could wait just a few more minutes.

Silence hang in the air, disturbed only by the soft crackle and hum of his own flame. Growing curiosity slowly propelled him awake. Who had texted him. What did they want.

He rolled over, fumbling first for his glasses, then for his phone on the nightstand. The screen of the device lit up, showing him that it was about ten minutes before his alarm would go off. With a few taps he brought up the text.

It was from Gaster.

_\- Hello, Grillby. I simply wanted to tell you that I very much enjoyed our evening together. In fact, I was wondering if you’d be interested in joining us for some board games again sometime? Sans has been itching to play Blokus, and that game is absolutely rubbish if not played with exactly four people._

As soon as Grillby had finished reading, another text from Gaster arrived.

_\- Of course, if you don’t find yourself in the mood for board games, perhaps we could find another activity more to your liking to do together?_

Another text.

_\- I do hope this isn’t too forward of me, but I’d like to spend some more time with you. You are a fascinating person, and I’d be delighted to get to know you better._

Grillby read the text. Then he re-read it, over and over, clutching his phone. He finally tore his eyes away, holding the device close to his chest.

Gaster thought that he was fascinating.

Gaster wanted to get to know him better.

His Soul beat fast, filled with gleeful, undirected energy that made him grin wide and his flame pop bright.

His thumbs typed quickly as he answered.

_\- Another board game night sounds great! Would Tuesday work for you?_

 

 

And another board game night they had. And another. And another.

Visits to the skeleton household became an almost regular occurrence. Not always for games, though. Sometimes the conversation brought up a movie Gaster absolutely needed to show Grillby, or vice versa. Sometimes they ended up just talking.

While Sans and Papyrus mostly stayed in their room, it wasn’t all that uncommon for them to join in whatever Grillby and Gaster were doing (although Gaster was adamant about shooing them back to their room if the nights movie was not suitable for children). A few times the two boys roped the adults into their playing, such as building a pillow fort, or going ice skating. It was nice, indulging in something childish like that a little.

Grillby enjoyed the visits to the skeleton household, he really did. The kids were fun to be around, and Gaster was excellent company.

His budding crush might have something to do with it.

Yes, Grillby thought to himself, sitting on the couch next to Gaster, the room dark as they watched a movie. He couldn’t deny the giddy, nervous feelings thrumming in his Soul. The way he wanted to reach over and touch Gaster’s hand, to see him smile and laugh, to have Gaster look at him like he was something special…

Of course Grillby couldn’t help himself from feeling this way. Gaster had many attractive qualities. Anyone who wasn’t blind could see how gorgeous Gaster was, how he carried himself tall, how elegantly he moved, how his eye lights twinkled when he was happy or excited. Gaster was the perfect gentleman, always polite, always considerate and attentive. Gaster was sharp as a razor, not just in book smarts but in wit and perception as well. Gaster was charming, Gaster was striking, Gaster was absolutely _captivating_.

And here Grillby was, at a complete loss about what he should do about the mess of flustered emotion swirling inside him.

There was that nagging little voice in his head that told him _No. Gaster is a scientist of the royal laboratories from the Capital, you’re a bartender from some backwater village in the middle of nowhere. Just look at him! You think someone like you would ever have a chance with someone like him?_

_And even if by some miracle he did return your feelings, then what?_

And that was the point where all of Grillby’s courage got stuck in his throat.

So, Grillby just… continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Just two new friends, sitting out on a couch, watching a movie.  He fixed his eyes on the television screen, trying to concentrate on the teenagers desperately struggling to convince the professor to help them stop the AI he’d created from destroying the world.

As if Gaster wasn’t sitting right next to him. As if the distance between them wasn’t so small all Grillby would need to do was lean for them to be touching.

Gaster shuffled, uncrossing his folded legs, stretching himself. Then he draped an arm on the back of the couch.

Just on the back of the couch, Grillby was _stunningly_ aware. Not even a hands width away from the nape of his neck. It would be _so easy_ for Gaster to let his arm slide down and wrap around Grillby’s shoulders. Pull him close.

But he didn’t. Grillby felt almost relieved as the movie ended and Gaster stood up from the couch to collect the DVD from the player.

“So, what did you think?” Gaster asked, snapping the disk into its case.

“It was a good film. You were right, the computer had some really cool lines”, Grillby said, hoping it wasn’t overwhelmingly obvious he hadn’t really been paying that much attention.

“I’m glad to hear you liked it.” Gaster returned the DVD to its place on the shelf.

Then, he paused, as if weighing something in his mind. “You know, Grillby…”

“Yeah?”

“I noticed that that Snow Fort Event you told me about is coming up. I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

“Of course”, Grillby said. “I’m sure the boys will like it, they always bring in

some extra stuff for kids. I hear they got a puppet theatre this year-”

“Actually”, Gaster interrupted. “I was thinking that you and I could go by ourselves.”

Grillby’s flame flickered. Just… Just the two of them?

_Was this a date?_

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them dearly, but it’d be nice to get out of the house just between us adults for a change.” Gaster’s tone was light-hearted.

…Not a _date_ -date then. More of a friend-date. A hangout.

“Sure”, Grillby said, his voice a carefully curated brand of nonchalant, not to reveal the sting of disappointment pricking his Soul.

“Wonderful.” Gaster smiled, that absolutely gorgeous smile that lit up his every feature.

… _By the stars_ how was Grillby supposed to survive when he had it _this bad_ for Gaster?

His musings were interrupted by the dual stomping coming from the stairs, a sound he’d learned to recognize by now.

“FATHER?” Papyrus began as he climbed down the steps.

“WE’RE H-” He stopped his sentence abruptly, as he saw Grillby. “UMM.”

“…can we have our spoons already?” Sans asked, trailing behind his brother.

“Well, it’s a bit early.” Gaster said hesitantly.

“PLEASE?”

Gaster sighed. “Alright, alright. Come along, you two.”

Gaster went to the kitchen, the boys in tow.

Grillby furrowed his brow. Spoons? What was going on? He followed the others, remaining by the doorstep of the kitchen.

Gaster opened the fridge, and took a bottle out. It was the shape of a cough syrup bottle, but the colour of the liquid it contained was deep crimson.

With the ease of a well-practiced routine Papyrus fetched three table spoons from the drawer, handing one to Sans and one to Gaster.

“can i pour-”

“No.” Gaster’s voice was stern. He added more softly: “Maybe in a few more years.”

Silently he filled each of the spoons from the bottle, the thick red liquid flowing slowly.

“Cheers”, he said when he was finished, and in sync the three skeletons popped their spoons in their mouths. Both of the boys suckled on their spoons for a moment, as if savouring the taste.

Again following some unknown routine, Papyrus gathered the spoons and put them in the sink.

“thanks”, Sans said.

Gaster smiled, giving him a little pat on the head.

The two children were quick to scamper off again. Grillby, curious about the little ritual, walked over to the kitchen table where Gaster had placed the red bottle and picked it up to inspect it.

‘DT-based V-supplement. Keep of the sight and reach of children. Dosage carefully’, read the label.

“What’s DT? and V?” Grillby asked.

“Vitamins. It can be hard to get all the necessary micronutrients.” Gaster took the bottle from Grillby and put it back in the fridge. “D stands for vitamin D, and T for Tocotrienol. Good for strong bones.”

“That’s quite the shade of red”, Grillby commented off-hand.

“It’s strawberry-flavoured. Which is why I don’t want the boys to pour it themselves, I don’t want them to overdose on fat-soluble vitamins just because it tastes like candy.”

Grillby nodded in acknowledgement.

“Would you like to watch another movie? There are some classics on the shelf that might interest you”, Gaster asked.

Grillby glanced at the kitchen clock. “Actually, I probably should get going. I have work tomorrow.”

“Such a shame.”

“You know”, Gaster began. “We should arrange a little sleepover sometime, just between the two of us.”

Gaster’s tone was soft, and just a bit…

_Sensual._

He wasn’t suggesting-!?

“We could watch movies all night long.” Gaster’s tempting smile was at an odd juxtaposition with his fundamentally innocent words.

He tilted his head, his gaze slipping downwards.

“Oh dear”, he said. “Your collar has gone and popped. Here, allow me-”

Before Grillby could say anything, Gaster had already reached for the upturned collar of Grillby’s dress shirt. His deft fingers gently folded the fabric down where it belonged. Grillby could feel Gaster’s hands ghosting just a breath away from the skin of his neck.

“There. All better.” With one fluid motion Gaster smoothed the fabric, quickly trailing across Grillby’s chest. He took a step back to admire his handiwork, smiled, and Grillby remembered to breathe again.

“Thanks”, Grillby stammered.

“You’re welcome.”

“So. Like I said. I need to get going.”

“Of course.”

Grillby turned on his heel, heading straight to the hallway, trying to keep his flame even.

Gaster hadn’t been flirting, he couldn’t have been, right? He’d just been teasing as a joke, right? And Grillby’s stupid, besotted mind had made his tone sound sultrier than it really had been.

And that smirk on Gaster’s face had just been an amused smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you, this here colour co-ordination of DT went quite fortunately
> 
> The movie they're watching is called WarGames, it's an excellent flick, highly recommend it. Gaster actually references it in an earlier chapter, if ya'll ever see "Shall we play a game? How about a nice game of chess?" anywhere, it's probably a WarGames reference.


	7. Cold to the touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DATING... START!
> 
> Oh wait no this wasn't a date right silly me for getting it wrong especially since I'm the writer you'd think I'd know when the characters go on a date and when not whoopsie

The not-date rolled around before Grillby even knew it. Resolute to look nice even if this wasn’t something romantic, he spent an hour agonizing over what to wear, and a solid ten minutes berating himself for not remembering that the whole thing was outdoors and he’d be wearing a jacket anyway. He might have gone longer, if he hadn’t been interrupted by the sound of knocking.

“Hello, Grillby”, Gaster greeted once Grillby opened the door. “Are you ready to go?”

Grillby nodded, hoping Gaster at least noticed his sky blue dress shirt and navy slacks. “Just let me grab my jacket.”

Together they walked through the forest. The Snow Fort Event was on a large clearing, on a spot where it always snowed heavily, to make sure there was enough material. The name was a little misleading, it was more of a snow sculpture competition than anything to do with snow forts, coupled with a small fair. The contest was divided into two categories, one for monsters with snow or ice magic, one for those without, and the winner was chosen by vote of the attendees. The rows of sculptures formed a winding path, almost labyrinthine in its shape. The sides of the large clearing were lined with little stalls, some selling food and warm drinks, others handmade crafts and trinkets. In the very back there was a towering mount of snow, consisting of what was left over when the sculptures were made. Children used the pile to make their own little snow sculptures, or just slide down its hill. There were also other entertainments arranged, like the puppet theatre this year, or the bouncy castle the year before that. One time they’d even brought in a carousel.

Although there were only few restrictions on what kind of entries were allowed, there was a different theme every year. This year, the theme was heroes.

“There are usually more”, Grillby said as he gave the field of sculptures a once-over. “It’s probably because of the sickness going around.”

“Such a shame”, Gaster said. “But it’s better for the ill to rest, after all.”

Side by side, Grillby and Gaster walked along the path between the sculptures. Many depicted characters from books, movies and video games. Grillby especially liked one which portrayed a small rabbit girl with bows on her ears and a controller in her hand, her expression determined.

“When playing a game, you get to be the hero”, Grillby commented.

After that came a string of real-life heroes, like Gerson, the captain of the royal guard, and king Asgore. One that seemed to catch Gaster’s eye was an abstract sculpture that featured one tall, curvy figure cradling a small bundle, with two more little figures standing on either side, looking up to the one in the centre.

“Oh, so it’s like a mother caring for her children. How sweet”, Grillby said after glancing at the little plaque next to the sculpture.

“Yes. Quite… sweet.” Gaster sounded displeased.

“Don’t you like it? I think it’s a good concept”, Grillby asked.

“It is.” Gaster crossed his arms. “I just with people wouldn’t be so quick to completely equate parenthood with _motherhood_. What about fathers? Just because a parent isn’t female doesn’t mean they don’t care for their children and nurture them just as much.”

“You do have a point”, Grillby admitted.

Gaster’s words made Grillby think as they walked between the snow sculptures. Less about fatherhood, that was a topic he was completely unfamiliar with, but more so about _single_ fatherhood. Grillby had noticed that all those picture frames on Gaster’s bookshelf depicted Gaster, Sans and Papyrus, and _only_ Gaster, Sans and Papyrus. And Grillby was old enough to know that babies weren’t exactly delivered by stork.

Sans and Papyrus had to have another parent besides Gaster, the three of them looked too similar for the boys to be adopted. And now that other parent was out of the picture, both literally and figuratively.

Grillby debated himself as he walked alongside Gaster. He could ask, of course. But it wasn’t really quite that simple, now was it? If Gaster had never brought the topic up, was it really his place to pry?

And even if Gaster decided to confide in Grillby when the subject couldn’t be easy for him… Did Grillby really want to hear Gaster pour his heart out about someone he had loved enough to have children with?

Maybe… Maybe some another time, Grillby settled. Some comfortable evening at home when it was just the two of them, sometime Gaster brought it up himself, sometime when Grillby knew for sure it was within his right to ask.

There was a clear section where the magically sculpted works ended and those made by hand began. They were less intricate, sure, but Grillby liked the coarseness. They had the same kind of charm that old vinyl records have. The first in the row depicted an empty armour, to symbolize the royal guard as a whole, according to the plaque. The next one was tall, Grillby had to take a few steps back to even take it in as a whole. It depicted Asklepian, a snake monster of old who’d been a famed healer. The thin from of the snow snake towered over Grillby and Gaster both. Grillby had to crane his neck to look at the face, how the head was held up high, how it leaned forward.

The quiet sound of crinkling of snow was all the warning Grillby got before he realized that the sculpture was in fact leaning forward, too forward, _toppling-!_

“Careful-!” Gaster called, and Grillby he was yanked by the lapel of his coat, his feet slipping as he tried to dodge, scrambling for purchase as he fell.

With a loud _FWOOM_ the sculpture keeled. Grillby, after his mind finally caught up with what had just happened, did not find himself on the ground, nor under a pile of snow. Rather, as he opened his eyes, his face was pressed into the black fabric of Gaster’ coat, Grillby himself not standing by himself, but supported by Gaster’s grip under his arms.

Slowly Grillby looked up, and Gaster’s face was just a hands width away from his, and he looked at Gaster and Gaster looked at him and _Grillby had literally just fallen into Gaster’s arms._

“Um”, he said intelligently.

“Are you alright?” Gaster asked, easing his hold on Grillby and helping him to stand on his own feet.

“Yeah.” Grillby laughed, partially because he’d been startled, partially out of embarrassment, partially to hide how flustered he was feeling. _Way to act suave, Grillby. Just leap at your crush and shove your face into his chest._

Gaster tutted. “Shouldn’t they know how to make their works sturdy enough not to fall on top of people? That’s just tempting fate about getting someone hurt.”

“Yeah”, Grillby said, looking at the large pile of snow he had been a hair away from being buried under.

Gaster looked at him, concerned. He tilted his head, as if trying to figure something out.

“How about we get you a cup of something nice and warm?” Gaster suggested. It wasn’t really a question.

“Um”, Grillby said, not sure if he should try to convince Gaster not to fuss about him, he was fine, just rattled. But Gaster had already taken him by the hand and was leading him towards the food stalls, and Grillby let him.

It was nice, the minute it lasted. Holding hands with Gaster as they walked away from the exhibition. Even if Gaster’s bones felt a little cold after being exposed to the winter air.

Gaster bought a cup of mulled wine and gave it to Grillby. Grillby was grateful for the drink, he enjoyed how the taste of the spices filled his mouth, how the alcohol stoked his flame and warmed him up to his Core, soothing his nerves.

“Don’t you want any?” Grillby asked after a couple of sips.

Gaster shook his head, a mildly apologetic smile on his face. “I don’t drink.”

Grillby nodded his acknowledgement, before raising the cup to his lips once again.

Since they were at the stalls already, they decided to take a moment to look through what kinds of crafts and trinkets people were selling. There were felt mittens and knit scarfs, ornamental jewellery and handmade soap. Grillby bought himself a beeswax candle, Gaster a little crystal snowflake pin.

“Just to have a memento”, he said as he pinned the snowflake to his coat lapel.

Neither of them were interested in the puppet theatre, and almost having one of the sculptures fall on top of Grillby had put a damper on spending too much time checking out the rest of the exhibition. So, as the day began to turn into the evening, the two of them settled to calling it a day and leaving.

 

Much like when they had arrived, together they walked through the forest. A silence hang between them. Grillby’s head was too filled with thought for conversation.

Gaster hadn’t called it a date. But it sure had been like one. Gaster had picked him up at home, and now he was walking him home. Grillby had put on nice clothes, even if they were under his jacket, Gaster had given him a gift, even if it was just a cup of mulled wine. They’d held hands, even if it had been just for a fleeting moment.

And… while Gaster never went ahead and bridged the gap between them to touch Grillby meaningfully, he was always… hovering. Once in a while he dropped his tone into something just a little suggestive, even he never said anything outright flirty.

Maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t that impossible that Gaster-

No.

Grillby should just bite the bullet and ask. Let Gaster just reject him and be done with it, and maybe that would be enough for Grillby to let go of his feelings instead of endlessly agonizing over them.

“Gaster?” he began.

“Yes?”

“Was…” Grillby swallowed. “Was this a date?”

There was a beat of silence in the air as they walked. It felt like an eternity.

“Would you like for it to be?”

Grillby flared, his Soul doing a flip in his chest. That was not what he’d been expecting Gaster to say.

“Grillby, I…” Gaster hesitated, weighing his words. He was looking somewhere off into the distance.

“Grillby. I enjoy your company immensely. I am very grateful to having met you, and gotten the chance to get to know you. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you…” Gaster finally looked at Grillby. Their eyes met, and Gaster again turned his head away, an unexpectedly coy smile on his face.

“…Attractive.”

Gaster sighed deeply, his breath forming a small cloud in the cold air. “But I value your friendship. And if your friendship is all you wish to offer me, then I accept that.”

“However, should you want to pursue something… a little _different_ than simple companionship with me… Well. I’d gladly call this a date”, Gaster finished.

Grillby didn’t know what to say, his Soul beating hard, his mind racing.

Gaster liked him.

Gaster thought that he was attractive.

Gaster _liked him._

“I…” Grillby’s suddenly couldn’t stop smiling. His flame burning bright, he reached for Gaster’s hand, clasping it with his own.

“I’d like that.”

To that, Gaster said nothing. He simply smiled, and they walked hand in hand, all the way to Grillby’s doorstep.

Grillby dug his keys out and opened the door. In front of him a dark room, on the other side Gaster and the desolate street.

“Would you like to come in for a bit?” Grillby asked. “Have a cup of coffee, maybe?”

Gaster shook his head. “I’m afraid I need to get going, I don’t want to leave the boys alone for too long. But thank you for the invite.”

Gaster stepped a little closer, slowly raising his hand, the movement almost hesitant.

“Grillby. I had a most wonderful time today.” Gaster’s voice was soft in a way that made Grillby shiver. Gaster grazed Grillby’s cheek with the back of his hand, the touch a gentle caress that made Grillby’s Soul race, his flame flicker blue.

“I’d be delighted to take you out again sometime.”

Take him out. More dates. This was their first date, wasn’t it?

Gaster was standing so close to him. There was a tension in the air, thick and electrifying, almost frightening.

Gaster’s gaze was half-lidded, he was looking at Grillby’s mouth.

“I…” Grillby’s words failed him.

It- It would be a fitting end, to their first date, right? He could-?

He saw that Gaster’s teeth were parted, just a bit, his head tilting slightly.

Grillby leaned forward, tilting his head in the other way for easier access, taking a half-step forward to close the gap between them as he slowly let his eyes fall shut-

Loud beeping of a melody sounded from Gaster’s coat pocket, absolutely shattering whatever spell had been hanging in the air. Gaster stepped back, frowning, rifling through his pockets for his phone.

“It’s Papyrus”, he said when he got the ringing device out.

He brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Yes, we were just-” he glanced at Grillby. “-finishing up. I walked Grillby home, that’s all.”

“Yes. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, at most.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Of course.”

“I will. See you soon.”

Gaster ended the call. “Sans and Papyrus wish you good night.”

“That’s nice of them.” Grillby tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. It’d been _so close_. And now moment was beyond salvaging.

“I’m sorry about that. The boys are hankering for an evening snack, and were starting to worry how long I was taking. I should have texted them that I’d be a little later than anticipated.”

“It’s alright.” Grillby wrapped his arms around himself.

Gaster stepped forward, again softly caressing his cheek, smiling to him.

“Well, the duties of fatherhood call, I’m afraid”, he said in a playful tone. “Good night, Grillby.”

“Good night”, Grillby said.

Gaster walked off, disappearing into the darkening evening. Grillby stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.

He slowly raised his hand, bringing it to his cheek. He could almost feel the phantom of Gaster’s touch.

He smiled, his flame burning bright, his Soul bursting with giddy energy. Maybe the kiss had been interrupted that night, but they’d have another chance.

After all, this was only the beginning, wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many notes about this one!
> 
> The Snow Fort Event is based on a thing my town does in the summer called the Sand Castle Event. It has professionally made sand sculptures, a big sandpile for kids to play in, and a carousel. Also there is usually one stand selling trinkets and and ice cream kiosk.
> 
> The snake monster healer is named after the rod of Asclepius, a Greek deity of healing and medicine. Not to be confused with caduceus, the staff of Hermes that also was snake-entwined.
> 
> I kinda like the "tripping over dense air into the arms of the love interest" trope. Also I know the "I don't drink... _wine_ " vampire trope is super cliche, but it's a FUN cliche, I'm glad the chance to include it arose.


	8. Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...wasn't this supposed to be about vampires?

He knew he shouldn’t be there. It was much too early. Much too risky. But the window, open just a crack to let the cold night air in, had been just too tempting.

Grillby slept shirtless, he’d found out. A pleasant surprise. The fire elemental was lying on his back, the blanket pooled around his midsection, his head lolled to the side on his pillow. Leaving his neck _tantalizingly_ exposed.

He leaned over the sleeping body, hovering just by Grillby’s head.

“ ** _Sleep_** ”, he whispered softly, reaching for the slumbering mind with his magic, submerging it deeper into the dark recesses of unconsciousness, deep enough for him to be sure that despite the pain Grillby would not be stirred awake.

He knew he shouldn’t be there.

It was much too early. Much too risky.

But he was _so very hungry_.

It was easy. It was easy to brace his hands on the mattress as he leaned closer, easy to brush his teeth against the bare skin to coax his fangs to unsheathe. To sink into the fiery heat of Grillby.

The taste flooded his mouth, that taste of wood smoke and salt, strong, exhilarating, _rapturous_. His marrow lit aflame, his Soul beating with stolen life, the Verve crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Beneath his teeth, he could feel it. Grillby’s Soul. Feel how its once marble-like surface yielded, how it gave in, how it weakened, splitting by its seams just a little. How it surrendered those precious drops of Grillby’s life force it had once relentlessly fought to keep.

He forced himself to quit. He tore his teeth away, the connection between their Souls snapping like a rope pulled too taut. As much he wanted to gorge himself, it’d be short-sighted. Having Grillby confined to bedrest while his plan was still in its early stages could disrupt the delicate balance of luring Grillby in, but never giving enough to truly satisfy. No. He was playing the long game, meticulous and thorough to ensure his victory.

So, he pulled away. Straightened himself. Tonight, he’d only get a taste.

Grillby’s flame had dimmed, no doubt due to the Verve he’d lost. His face had twisted into a pained frown. If Grillby were awake enough he’d surely have whimpered.

“Shh, shh”, he hushed, reaching forth, softly caressing Grillby’s cheek with the back of his hand, as if the smooth out the miserable expression. No need to fear anymore. He was done now. No more hurt would befall Grillby that night.

Slowly Grillby’s frown eased, his furrowed brow melting away. Soon his face was just as restful as it had been. Grillby looked beautiful when he slept, he thought. Peaceful. Free from worry and strife, all that remained was a childlike innocence, an unguarded vulnerability.

The thought of stealing a kiss from his sleeping beauty crossed his mind, an uninvited impulse to take what he’d been denied earlier. But, alas, he restrained himself. It’d be no fun without Grillby succumbing to him knowingly, _willingly_. And the wait would make his final reward all the sweeter. He wasn’t going to ruin the delectation with premature action.

He straightened himself.

He knew he no longer had any reason to stay.

But yet, he lingered.

Grillby’s Soul had yielded much easier than he had anticipated. It had felt softer than he’d have thought it would be by now. He smiled to himself. Grillby must have been a fair bit more smitten than he’d reckoned. How adorable. He’d have Grillby wrapped around his fingers in no time.

And then.

An image flashed in his head, Grillby’s bare Soul in his hands, no longer confined to the body made of flame, soft and tender and _pliant_. He could imagine how it would feel in his mouth, how it would shatter between his teeth as he bit into it, every shard dripping, bursting with Verve. What it would be like to drink every last drop. How it’s raw power would fill him, truly, _fully_ satisfy the endless hunger within.

The Soul of an elemental, swallowed whole. Enough to sustain him and his children for years and years.

He shook his head, as if to chase the thoughts away.

He should leave. If he hurried, he’d still be able to feed on that half-blind guard dog before his shift ended. The lonesome sentry stations made for easy pickings, and it’d be prudent to cap his reserves.

He silently wished Grillby sweet dreams, and a restful sleep. Then, just as easily he had slipped in, he vanished into the night, without a trace.

 

~~~~~~~

 

When Grillby woke up, he felt groggy enough to think he hadn’t actually slept through the night. Surely it had to still be the small hours. Surely it couldn’t be morning yet. But no, the digital numbers of his alarm clock glowed a harsh red, stating without mercy that it truly was the time to get up.

His head hurt.

Grillby groaned. Hadn’t he just been sick? How had he gotten ill again? He dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his temples in hopes that would ease the pounding in his head. He needed coffee. Coffee and breakfast.

Grillby made himself a large omelette, some toast, he even fried himself a few strips of bacon. He wasn’t usually all that hungry in the mornings, but now he felt like he hadn’t eaten for days. Getting his stomach full lifted his spirits, even if he was still tired. With a sigh Grillby decided that he wouldn’t open the bar that day, better safe than sorry. But perhaps he wouldn’t have to take as much sick leave this time around, he didn’t feel as awful. A quick trip downstairs to the bar to put up a sign about being closed, a detour by the bookshelf to pick something to read if he felt like it, and then back to bed for a nice nap.

Before Grillby could fall asleep again, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Gaster.

_\- Good morning, Grillby. Did you sleep well?_

Despite the drowsiness and the headache, Grillby smiled when he saw the text. He hadn’t heard from Gaster for a couple of days. Not since their date.

_\- Not really, to be honest. I think I’m sick. Taking the day off at least_ , he answered.

Gaster was quick to reply.

_\- Oh dear, that is unfortunate news. It’s nothing serious, I hope?_

_\- Nah, just feeling really tired_

_\- Try to get some rest. And remember to eat, even if you don’t have much appetite, you need your strength to get better._

Grillby chuckled to himself. Gaster had switched to parent mode, apparently.

_\- I will_

Grillby put his phone away. He closed his eyes, getting comfortable under the covers. It was sweet of Gaster to check on him.

 

Grillby was stirred awake from his nap by a sharp _THUNK_. Blinking his eyes open, he sat up on his bed, put his glasses on, and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…?

A second _THUNK_ sounded in the room, and this time Grillby could pin from which direction it had come from. He turned his head, and saw two round snow splatters on his window. He got up, and walked over to the window. When he looked out, he could see the black-cloaked figure of Gaster standing a bit away from his house, a third snowball in hand.

Grillby opened the window.

“Gaster? What the heck are you doing?” he yelled. “You could have just called!”

Gaster shrugged, tossing the snowball aside. It was hard to tell from the distance, but Grillby was pretty sure Gaster was grinning.

“I brought you something”, Gaster shouted back, lifting a little picnic basket for Grillby to see.

“Wait a minute, I’ll come down-”

“No, don’t”, Gaster interrupted. “There is no need.”

Grillby saw Gaster summoning a small bone attack, and tying a rope to it, the other end attatched to the handle of the basket. He sent the bone flying towards Grillby, who caught it in his hand. Gaster lifted the basket, and Grillby realized what he was meant to do. He took the rope, and with it pulled the basket up along the wall, all the way to the window.

Clever, he thought as he brought the basket inside. Opening the lid, he saw a pie tin wrapped in aluminium foil, a little note, and a card.

‘I thought I’d bring you some food, so that you don’t have to cook for yourself while you’re ill. I know it’s nothing special, but at the very least you can focus on resting. Get better soon. W.D.G.’ read the note.

Grillby peeked under the foil. It looked to be a spinach quiche.

Grillby’s flame brightened as he flickered warm colours. How considerate of Gaster! He inspected the card next. It was made out of blue construction paper, and it had a cartoony picture of a cat draw on it with markers. ‘hope you’re feline better soon! from sans and PAPYRUS’ it read. Grillby smiled at the abrupt change in handwriting, the small, round letters switching into tall thin ones. Papyrus must have wanted to sign his name himself.

He leaned out the window again. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome! Just bring the basket and the rope back when you come over next time”, Gaster shouted.

Grillby nodded. The two of them waved each other goodbye.

Later Grillby heated up some of the quiche for lunch. It didn’t taste particularly good, but the thoughtful gesture still made him happy.

 

On the second day Grillby already felt fine, but he waited until the third day to open up the bar again. On the fifth day Grillby found himself knocking on the door of the skeleton household for their regular hangout.

That day the usually so peaceful house rattled with noise. Through the closed door Grillby heard  the muffled sounds of what seemed to be some kind of argument.

“-CAN’T SANS AND I COME WITH YOU! WE’LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE!” rang Papyrus’s loud voice as Gaster opened door.

“Sweetheart, it’s an _adult_ function, you’d both be bored out of your mind”, Gaster said. Judging by the tone, whatever this the subject was, they’d been going back and forth about it for a while. “Hello, Grillby.”

“Hi-”

“BUT IT’S STILL A PARTY!” Papyrus whined.

“What’s going on?” Grillby asked, putting his coat away.

“FATHER WAS INVITED TO A COOL FANCY PARTY WHERE THERE ARE LOTS OF PRETTY DRESSES AND DANCING AND PEOPLE AND HE SAYS SANS AND I HAVE TO STAY AT HOME WHILE HE GOES AND HAS FUN!”

“ _Papyrus_.” Gaster sighed deeply. “It’s a social dance. Just communal and business representatives talking about economics. It lasts way past your bedtime, and trust me, it’s not a party. There is no games or balloons or fun hats, just ballroom dancing to classical music.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU GOING IF IT’S SO BORING!?” Papyrus demanded.

“Because my research needs funders-”

Papyrus made a frustrated noise before storming off in a huff, slamming the door of the kids room after himself.

His mouth pressed into a thin line, Gaster wrapped his arms around himself. He took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly.

“…I’ll talk to him after he calms down a little”, he said quietly.

Grillby hesitated. The, he placed a hand on Gaster’s shoulder hoping that it would comfort him, at least a little. “What was that about…?”

Gaster raised his own hand, and placed in on top of Grillby’s, holding it securely in place.

“I was invited to the Annual Royal Reception, and, well. Papyrus… doesn’t like to feel left out.” Gaster thumbed the back of Grillby’s hand.

“That big ball they have at the castle?”

Gaster nodded. “They wanted me there to represent the royal laboratories.”

“I understand why he’d be upset he doesn’t get to go, I hear it’s very fancy.” The Annual Royal Reception was one of the biggest, classiest social gatherings of the Underground. Who got invited and who had the best and the worst outfit was always a big point of discussion in the tabloids.

“Oh, the previous times I’ve been were fantastic. But it’s just simply not a thing for children, that is all. Speaking of which-”

Gaster properly turned to look at Grillby, letting go of his hand.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”

Grillby flared in surprise. Him, at some high-class ball? With all the lords and ladies and rich snobs?

“Really? You’re asking me?” Grillby gestured to himself, baffled.

“Well”, Gaster stepped a little closer, an alluring smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not uncommon to bring a date to these kinds of things, now is it?”

Grillby flickered blue, a coy smile spreading on his face. Yeah. They were doing the date thing now, weren’t they?

“Although, if you feel like it’d be a bit much-”

“No, no”, Grillby assured, not wanting to disappoint Gaster by rejecting him just because he wasn’t used to that sort of fancy events.

“I mean, yeah, it’s kind of a lot, but-” Grillby wrung his hands nervously. “We’ll be there together, won’t we? You’ll save me if some uppity socialite tries to talk politics with me, right?”

Gaster laughed. “Of course.”

Grillby whistled. “I hope nobody tries to snub us because I’m just-”

“Oh hush.” Gaster placed his finger on Grillby’s lips, silencing him. “Only a fool would turn their nose up at someone like you.”

Grillby flushed, at the words and at the contact.

“Charmer”, me muttered to himself, turning his head away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

 

Suddenly a frustrated half-cry cut the air, too muffled to make out the words but the voice easily recognizable. It was accompanied by a soft _thump_.

Gaster sighed, and rolled his shoulders.

“Into the fray, I suppose.”

Gaster headed up the stairs, towards the children’s room. Not really knowing what to do with himself, Grillby opted to follow.

“Boys? May I come in?” Gaster asked as he knocked.

“NO!” came the hurt answer.

However, the door opened. Sans was standing by the doorstep, looking unsure.

“i talked to him, but…” he said quietly.

“Thank you, precious. I’ll take it from here.”

Gaster stepped into the room. Grillby tried to peer in from the hallway. The usually so neat squadron of action figures were knocked over, and by the looks of it Papyrus had thrown a pillow against the wall. The boy himself was sitting on his bed, knees drawn to his chest, an upset frown twisting his face.

Gaster calmly walked across the room, picking the pillow off the floor as he passed it. He placed it on the bed, and sat next to the sulking child.

“Come now, sweetheart. This isn’t like you. You haven’t thrown a tantrum like this since you were a baby bones. What is this actually about?”

Papyrus buried his face into his knees.

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS DITCHING US?” His tone was accusatory. “YOU’RE ALWAYS GOING OUT AND LEAVING US ALONE! WE DON’T GET TO DO ANYTHING WITH YOU! YOU’RE- YOU’RE ALWAYS- YOU ALWAYS _LEAVE!_ ”

Gaster was silent, at first. Then, he slowly wrapped his arms around Papyrus’s small body, and pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ”, he whispered.

Suddenly Grillby felt like he was intruding. He stepped away from the door.

“Uh, Sans? How about we give your brother and father a minute?” he said quietly.

Sans nodded. He entered the hallway, shutting the door behind himself, closing off whatever happened inside.

They stood there awkwardly. Grillby realized he’d never been in the room alone with either boy. Gaster had always been there.

Now what was he supposed to do?

Sans shuffled, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “do you wanna play poker?”

Grillby gave a relieved nod. “Yeah, sure. Let’s play poker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT SCHEDULE THING! NO UPDATE NEXT MONDAY!
> 
> Uni's been pretty brutal, and I've eaten up my buffer with lengthier chapters. The Ball chapter is an important one and I don't want to rush it.  
> On the other hand, ya'll be getting a ~dramatic reading~ of Ch 7! Prolly out next week, with luck this week. Will be linked to in the next update, but if you wanna know immediately once it's out, come follow [my Tumblr](https://anchestor.tumblr.com)! ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Some fun lore bits here:
> 
> The retractable fangs have always been the most sensible option for a vampire that hides admits normal society in my opinion. I like to imagine them doing a lil Wolverine snkit! when they unsheath ^^ And while Gaster does feed on Soul energy (the Verve he keeps mentioning) and not blood, the physical biting is still a part for the process, more on that later.
> 
> Also, while not a vampire magic lore rule, you may notice that Gaster never enter places where he has not been previously been invited in. Grillby explicitly welcomes him to his bar in Ch 2, and tried to ask him in for some after-date pleasantries in the previous chapter. Gaster also always asks if he can come into the boys room out of respect for their own space.
> 
> One more subtle vampire quick that also isn't a magic lore rule as much as a reference is that Gaster is never described touching silver, which is why he got a crystal snowflake in the previous chapter, and why I'm having trouble coming up with what kind of cufflinks he should wear at The Ball. We'll se what happens.


	9. Danse Macabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this update took A LOT longer than expected. The end of the semester went pretty intense, and I wanted to make sure this wasn't written in a rush or chopped up.
> 
> And yeah I guess it's not Monday, but next Monday is frigging Christmas eve, so maybe not the best date to post vampires :P And I think you've all been waiting long enough ^^'

“Daa da-da-da-daa, da-da-da-daa, tatatatatata talalala-da…” Grillby hummed as he buttoned up his suit jacket, then quickly tugged and smoothed the fabric so that it sat nicely.

It was the night of the ball.

Gaster had given him a small crash course of the dances they usually had at the Annual Royal Reception, and the promise of sitting out some with more difficult choreographies if Grillby so wished. He still had few of the tunes in his head. Gaster had somehow placated Papyrus about not getting to come with them to the ball. The boy had still wanted to partake in the dancing lesson, he had even managed to rope Sans in. The two brothers doing a little waltz across the living room floor had admittedly been a cute sight.

“DA-da-daa, da-da-da-DA-da-daa…”

Grillby took a few box steps, trying to get a feel for the outfit. The sound of his new shoes against the hardwood floor was tremendously satisfying.

He’d been having trouble finding a proper suit for the ball. He did own a plain, regular tuxedo, but the Annual Royal Reception required something a little more special. So, Grillby had taken the ferry and ventured into the shops and stores of the Capital. He’d spent hours trying to pick something that was elegant but classy but interesting but not gaudy but but but. And also not too expensive. But nothing looked right, _felt_ right. Everything was either too boring or too weird. Defeated, he’d sat down on one of the benches of the shopping centre, tempted to give up and just wear his old tuxedo.

That was when a flash of colour caught his eye.

In one of the display windows, among boots and high heels, sat a pair of men’s dress shoes. They were stylishly designed, made out of quality leather, and, most noticeably, they were a stunning shade of red.

As soon as Grillby laid eyes on them he knew that those were the shoes he wanted to wear when dancing with Gaster.

After that it’d been a task of composing the rest of the outfit around the red shoes. And now there he was, about to head out, checking that everything was in order. He’d bought himself a cherry velvet suit and a scarlet silk bowtie, and he’d taken the snow-white dress shirt and gloves from his old tuxedo. What really elevated the outfit was a red waistcoat with a beautiful rose pattern, the blooms and stems intricately embroidered in a shade just a little darker than the base fabric.

“Tan-tan-tan-tan tan-tan-tan-tan talala, talala…” Grillby adjusted his bowtie. He was ready to face the music, both literally and figuratively.

There was a knocking sound at the door. Grillby smiled, already knowing who it was.

“Hello, Gaster!”

“Good evening, Grillby”, Gaster greeted as Grillby opened the door.

Grillby’s eyes widened as he saw Gaster, dressed in all black. The long dark coat Gaster usually wore had been switched to a black tailcoat of shiny satin, the shirt underneath just as black, as was his thin silk tie tied with an Eldredge knot. Even his silk gloves were black, matching the tie. At first glance his waistcoat looked black, too, but Grillby soon noticed that it had a hue of deep purple when the light hit it just right. His dress shoes were meticulously polished to a mirror shine, Grillby was sure he’d been able to see his own reflection if he’d inspected them close enough.

In a word, Gaster looked _sharp_. Elegant, classy and sophisticated, but still unostentatious. And suddenly Grillby felt self-conscious about his bright red suit.

“Do I look okay? It’s- it’s not too flashy, is it?” Grillby spun once in his place so that Gaster could see him from all angles. He still had time to change into his old tuxedo-

“Do you look ‘okay’? Oh, Grillby.” Gaster stepped closer, letting his eyes roam along Grillby’s form, unhurried. He brought his hand up, letting it trail down along Grillby’s chest.

He looked up, meeting Grillby’s eyes, with a smile that made Grillby shiver.

“You look _delectable_.”

Grillby flushed bright blue, his flame sparking and fluttering.

“Charmer”, he muttered. Gaster and his silver tongue! How did that man manage to make his head spin with one word?

Gaster chuckled. “Well, then. Shall we?”

Together they walked to the Snowdin dock, where the small boat of the Riverperson was already waiting.

Grillby took a deep breath as he stepped on board. Traveling the river was always unnerving, no matter how many times he did it. He settled carefully in the middle of the deck, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Gaster settled beside him, his hand gripping Grillby’s. He smiled at him encouragingly.

With a slosh of water the boat began to move.

“Tralala”, the Riverperson sang. “I’m glad I’m not a frog. Makes ferrying scorpions much safer.”

Not particularly concerned with the Riverperson’s enigmas, Grillby focused on trying to keep his cool as the boat rocked in the waves.

 

There was a large crowd in front of the royal castle of people slowly filing through the large doors. The castle had an odd juxtaposition to itself. One half, the one that actually served as the housing of the royal family, was quite cosy, smelling faintly of pie and golden flowers. Asgore had never elevated himself high above his subjects, preferring to take more the fatherly role than that of a sovereign, and the place was welcoming to reflect that.

On the other hand, there was still a need for something big and stately for big stately things, and that was where the other half of the palace came in. Designed to impress, the neoclassical architecture stood tall and imposing, cold marble floors were spotted with luscious red carpet, beautiful chandeliers hang high in the tall rooms.

With wide eyes Grillby looked at all the elaborate, shiny decorations around as him and Gaster walked down the stairs from the foyer.

“How are you holding up?” Gaster asked quietly.

“I feel like Cinderella going to the ball”, Grillby whispered.

Gaster chuckled. “Well, try not to lose your shoe, those look good on you.”

Together they entered the sea of expensive suits and lavish ballgowns. All around him there were monster Grillby vaguely remembered seeing in the newspapers: politicians, philanthropists, celebrities. Chatter sounded over the orchestra playing something classical, high heels clicked against the floor, glasses chimed together as people toasted. The smell of perfumes and colognes hang and mingled in the air.

The declamatory sound of a trumpet cut through the noise, silencing the guests and the orchestra alike.

“His majesty, king Asgore Dreemurr!” announced an attendant.

In full regalia of golden pauldrons, a purple cape on his shoulders, and most importantly the crown between his horns, the king stood at the top of the grand staircase.

“Friends and countrymen! I warmly welcome you to the celebration of another prosperous year in our humble kingdom, and I’m so very glad to see so many of you were able to attend!”

The king’s deep, booming voice carried through the room as he went on with his speech about making the Underground a better place, and working together, and so forth.

Grillby’s mind wandered, the speech wasn’t particularly capturing his interest. It popped into his head that Gaster worked in the _royal_ laboratories.

He leaned a bit closer and whispered: “Have you ever met the king in person?”

Gaster nodded. “Many times. Most of the Soul science experiments need explicit permission from the king, and he prefers to have things explained to him face to face rather than through reports.”

Grillby flared a little in surprise. He hesitated.

“Have… have you seen them?” he asked. “The Souls?”

“Oh, I’ve worked with them plenty.” Gaster answered without delay. “The entire purpose of the laboratories is to find a way to break the barrier, and the already collected Souls are our best bet. I’ve also had my own pet project regarding Souls from a more anabolic point of view-but it’s all highly technical, I won’t bore you with it.”

“But isn’t it a little weird?” Grillby asked. “You’re handling what used to be the very culmination of someone else’s being, their very life… Like it’s just a thing, an object?”

Gaster was silent for a moment.

“I suppose you get used to it”, he said quietly.

 

The speech ended with the king wishing everyone a wonderful night, and the orchestra picked up the distinct tune of the traditional opening dance. The mass of people, Grillby and Gaster among them, shuffled toward the dancefloor, pairing up and arranging themselves into a loose row formation.

Grillby and Gaster took their position, standing side by side, Gaster holding Grillby’s right hand with his left, a little lower than shoulder height. In his head Grillby counted the beats, and just like they had practiced, they gave each other a small bow as the dance truly began.

It was a fairly simple choreography of stepping around each other, switching hands as they changed directions, taking a few whirls in a waltz position as the brass instruments got swelled only to return to standing side by side once again. Grillby tried not to look at his legs too much, but he couldn’t help but take a peek every now and again. Or discreetly cheat off the pair next to them. Gaster was thankfully quick to correct Grillby whenever he began to step in the wrong direction.

“We should have practiced more”, Grillby muttered under his breath, embarrassed as Gaster had to grab the hand he’d forgotten to offer.

“Relax, Grillby”, Gaster whispered. “Nobody is here to judge your dancing. If anyone is looking, it’s because of how gorgeous you are.”

Grillby sparked, blue flickers running through his flame. Maybe his nerves made him cling to whatever reassurance he could get, but Gaster’s words still made him feel better.

“Can we still sit the next one out? I think I need a drink if we’re dancing the whole evening.”

Gaster chuckled. “Of course.”

With one last grand note the music winded down, and they bowed to each other, punctuating the end of the opening dance.

 

The orchestra began to play polonaise, and the crowd began to rearrange itself into a new formation. Grillby and Gaster on the other hand shuffled towards the buffet tables, which were loaded with various intricately crafted hors d'oeuvre: prawn cocktails, salmon tartare, canapé… On another table there were various sweeter things, such as macarons, chocolate truffles and small pastries, and finally, the last table carried rows and rows of champagne glasses.

On a whim Grillby picked up a crostino and took a bite.

“How is it?” Gaster asked conversationally.

Grillby chewed and swallowed. “Oh, it’s very good, for gourmet food.”

Gaster raised a brow. “You say ‘gourmet food’ like it’s a bad thing?”

“…I have this… pet peeve, I guess.” Grillby ate the rest of the crostini.

“Okay, so all food falls on a spectrum, alright? On one end, you have bread and porridge and stewed beans. Is it all that special? No. But when you come home after a long day of hard work, it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten. On the other end, you have this kind of fancy-shmancy nonsense. A single fried mushroom in sauce, a thimble of soup, arranged like it belongs in an art gallery and not on a plate. And sure-” Grillby gestured to emphasize his point. “This kind of stuff can be good, it can be _amazing_ , the way it melts in your mouth. It as culinary journey. But it’s hardly a _meal_.”

Grillby huffed a bit of smoke.

“Don’t get me wrong, I get that arranging something like that takes skill and effort. But I just appreciate good, honest, hearty food more.”

Gaster mulled over Grillby’s words, eyeing the offerings of the tables.

“I’ve never thought about it that much. I suppose I’m not as much as a connoisseur as you are”, he said.

“But I do understand wanting to feel full before anything else.”

“Do you want to toast with me?” Grillby asked as he picked up a glass of sparkling wine.

“I don’t-”

“Oh, wait, you don’t drink”, Grillby remembered.

“That’s right.” Gaster gave lopsided sort of smile.

“Skeletons are very light, and with such a small body mass I have practically no tolerance for alcohol. Learned that the hard way”, he chucked.

“What happened?” Grillby took a drink from his glass. Mmm, nice and bubbly. Not too sweet.

“Oh, it was towards the end of my apprenticeship, back when I was young and foolish. Some friends had gotten their hands on a bottle of apple wine. God, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sick in my entire life!” Gaster laughed.

“Oh dear”, Grillby grinned.

“Took a few more tries for me to learn my lesson, but that’s the way it goes, I suppose.” Gaster shrugged.

In the background, the tune of the polonaise had winded down. More people were shuffling towards the buffet, and the orchestra began to play the beginning tunes of cicapo.

Gaster gasped. “Oh, Grillby, quickly! We’ve simply got to do cicapo!”

Grillby threw back his glass, swallowing the rest of the sparkling wine, and together they hurried to take their place in the forming dance circle.

 

And through the night they danced. A smooth foxtrot. An unhurried pas d'Espagne. A bouncy polka that left Grillby breathless as he tried to keep up with the rhythm, he definitely needed another drink after that. Some people seemed to recognize Gaster, a few even coming to greet him, but none stayed to talk more than a few words.

Grillby’s nerves eased as the evening went on, and he started to really enjoy himself. So what if he twirled in the wrong direction or took a few missteps, there were over a hundred people at the ball, no-one cared if one of them didn’t know how to dance properly! So he slowly relaxed, letting Gaster lead him across the dancefloor, hands clasped as their bodies moved in sync through the familiar motions of a slow waltz.

“Do you want to take a break?” Gaster asked as the music winded down.

“No, let’s do one more”, Grillby assured.

On que, a single violin began to play, the melody dramatic.

“ _Oh_ ”, Gaster gasped. “Tango. My favourite.”

His hand positioned on Grillby’s upper back, Gaster pulled him closer as the music swelled, the overture coming to an end.

“Shall we?” He asked with a smirk.

With an unsure smile, Grillby nodded.

The song began proper, and together they began to move in a little square: front, right, back, left; front, right, back, left… Grillby tried to discreetly glance down at their feet, he hadn’t remembered the tango hold was this much closer than the waltz hold, he’d be so embarrassed in he stepped on Gaster’s polished dress shoes-

“ _Grillby_.” Gaster’s voice was soft as velvet. He leaned in as he whispered: “How about you focus on your dance partner a little?”

Grillby raised his gaze. By the stars, he hadn’t realized how close Gaster was. They were only a hand’s width away from each other, so close Grillby wondered if Gaster could feel the heat of his flame on his face.

Gaster was so beautiful, Grillby thought. With so little distance between them he really could let himself sink into the blackness of Gaster’s eye sockets. Like the night they were, like the never-ending vastness of outer space, with the lights in his eyes twinkling like a pair starts. The ivory bone he knew to be smooth under the touch. That alluring smile that made Grillby’s Soul race.

The grip of Gaster’s hands was gentle but firm as they danced. The melody flowed through the air, filled with passion and want. Intense and electrifying, it was the music of desire and jealousy.

They spun away from each other, only to return to each other’s hold once again.

“Ready?” Gaster smirked, and punctuated by the quickening violin and a startled yelp from Grillby came the dip. Grillby gripped into Gaster’s suit, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Not that deep!” Grillby fizzled.

“Oh, come now, Grillby”, Gaster murmured. “ _Trust me_. You won’t fall.”

_A little late for that_ , Grillby thought, giving off a small spray of sparks.

But, when the time for the next dip came, Grillby fully let his weight into Gaster’s hands. A self-satisfied grin flashed across Gaster’s features for the moment his face hovered above Grillby’s. All too soon they straightened, returning to the tight box-step.

Together they danced, through the steps and spins, through the escalating music as the orchestra played every note more intensely than the last. Until, with one last striking cry of a single violin, everything stopped.

Grillby and Gaster stood still. Grillby was breathless, his Soul was beating heard enough for him to almost hear it, and he knew it wasn’t because of the dance.

Gaster’s expression mirrored his, mouth slightly ajar, gasping for air.

Slowly, their breathing evened.

Slowly, Gaster’s hand slid down from its place to Grillby’s lower back. They pulled each other closer, until their bodies were pressed flush.

Slowly, Grillby moved his hand, no longer resting it on Gaster’s palm, but lacing their fingers together.

Gaster’s gaze became half-lidded, sinking from Grillby’s eyes to his mouth. Grillby in turn looked at Gaster’s teeth, tilting his head, letting his eyes fall shut, leaning in to finally close the last gap between them-

A startled gasp, a flinch, and Gaster disappeared from his arms. Grillby blinked his eyes open, only to see Gaster standing there, pulled away, a hand covering his mouth, wide eye sockets almost…

_Frightened_.

“I-” Gaster shook his head. “I need some air.”

Before Grillby could utter a word, Gaster had already vanished into the crowd.

 

It took a moment for Grillby to find his way to the balcony. After the ballroom brimming with people, the night air felt cool, and the space secluded. Here the sound of music and talk were muted into near inaudible white noise.

Gaster was leaning to the thick stone railing, staring somewhere off into the distance. After a moment of hesitation, Grillby walked beside him. He rested his hands on the coarse railing, the stone feeling cold under his palms. He followed Gaster’s gaze. Over the vast expanse of a dark grotto underneath, above the walkways and bridges of Waterfall, all the way to the far-off ceiling stars. The gems reflected the light shining from the castle windows, maybe even the light of Grillby himself.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Yes…” Gaster finally turned to look at Grillby, and odd little smile tugging his mouth. “Beautiful.”

A blue colour bloomed in Grillby’s flame, along with a warm feeling in his chest.

“Oh come on, Gaster. Your flattery is usually much more creative than that!” Grillby teased.

“They can’t all be perfect”, Gaster chuckled.

He straightened himself, no longer leaning on the railing. Gaster wrapped his arms around himself, gaze towards the distant ceiling stars once again.

“Oh, _Grillby_ ”, he sighed softly, his words pointed to the world as a whole as much as to Grillby. “The things you do to me.”

Unsure if he should somehow answer or not, Grillby waited in silence for Gaster to continue.

“When we came to Snowdin, I expected it to be a quiet little town of quiet little people. An uneventful place to watch time go by. I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Someone so honest and genuine, so patient and steadfast, so…” Gaster closed his eyes, breathing out the cool night air. “ _Tantalizing_. I never imagined someone would make me feel this way, this warmth, this want, this intoxication. It’s almost… frightening, all the things you evoke in me.”

Gaster opened his eyes, looked at Grillby. He smiled.

“And I want to savour this feeling, these moments with you. I want to take my time with this, and make sure to enjoy every step of the way to the fullest. Truly, I’d be a fool to rush things… But… Sometimes…”

He stepped closer to Grillby, and slowly slid his hand up the red velvet of Grillby’s suit.

He hooked his finger around his silk bowtie, pulling Grillby close, just as close as they had been on the dance floor as that fateful tango ended, their faces a mere breath apart from each other.

Gaster’s voice was low as he whispered: “ _I just want to grab you by the collar and ravish you._ ”

Grillby’s Soul was pounding hard. His voice was just as hushed when he answered.

“Maybe I’d like that.”

Their eyes locked.

If it was Gaster’s hand on his neck pulling Grillby closer, or he himself stepping forward, Grillby couldn’t tell. Maybe they closed the distance between them together as one. The only thing Grillby knew was that Gaster’s teeth were softly pressed against his lips, and suddenly his mind was drowned in something that was as exhilarating as it was inebriating.

The kiss, for as gentle it began, quickly grew bolder, hungrier. Grillby could feel Gaster’s hold by the back of his neck, by his hip. Not sure what to do with his own hands, he wrapped them around Gaster, resting them by his lower back. Their bodies pressed tightly together, Grillby eagerly lost himself in the kiss.

As they finally parted, Grillby was left breathless. When he opened his eyes, he saw his own dazed expression mirrored on Gaster’s face.

“Oh, _Grillby_.” Gaster sighed softly, leaning his forehead against Grillby’s.

“The things you do to me.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

His steps felt light despite being on his feet the entire evening. He smiled to himself as he walked through the snowy forest. The tune of cicapo was still stuck in his skull, not that he minded, it was a nice melody.

Wine, dancing, the shine of the false-stars. Why, he could not have planned a better first kiss!

He could still hold on to the taste of the kiss, the taste of Grillby. The taste of wood smoke and salt, slightly tuned to the strawberry macarons and the fizzy sparkling wine he had partaken of. How the little wisps of flame licked his phalanges where his touch met Grillby’s bare skin, the feel of Grillby’s arms around him, his strong body. Those eyes of molten gold behind his glasses, looking at him with adoration once they finally parted. That beautiful smile, his suppressed laughter as they returned to the ball, giddy like children who’d gotten away with some naughtiness. The warmth, the softness of his lips, so unlike his cool hard teeth.

…So unlike _her_ cool hard teeth.

…

He hadn’t meant to flinch on the dance floor. It would have been a good kiss. Coming off the heels of a passionate and intense tango.

But when he saw the look in Grillby’s eyes, when Grillby leaned in to kiss him, he’d felt a jolt somewhere under his sternum, that pleasant thrill, something he recognised from all those years ago.

He’d felt the same when he first met her.

And remembering what happened with Candara-

He had simply needed time to centre himself.

He’d never liked the trickery, the lies. The hunt. Spinning elaborate fairy tales of apple wine and sabbaticals, the pretence of a silly harmless doctor who’d be spending a few months in town with his sons. It left every interaction tainted with something sour, like bruise on an otherwise perfect fruit. And deceiving Grillby like this, knowing that Grillby was only smitten by his mask, that those adoring looks Grillby gave him weren’t _truly_ for _him_ , not the real him…

He’d never liked it. And that was all it was. A dislike, just a dislike.

There had only ever been one person in the world he’d never had to lie to. An equal, in the way his sons could never be, or his parents never could have been. And look how that ended.

He’d taken Candara to the Annual Royal Reception as well, hadn’t he? She’d worn that stunning red evening gown, and that black one that sparkled like the night sky the year after that. Had they gone together a third time, or had they started to just stay at home already?

His smile dropped, his steps slowed down.

Candara, Candara, Candara. The woman equal parts blessing and curse.

What would she say, if she were there to see him in the arms of another? She wouldn’t be happy, that was for sure-

He forced himself to stop. Stop walking, stop breathing, stop thinking altogether.

It hardly mattered what Candara had said. Not anymore. It hardly mattered what Candara had thought. Not anymore. It hardly mattered how Candara had kissed him and spoken to him and touched him. _Not anymore_.

And it hardly, _hardly_ mattered what Candara would say or do if she were there to see him and Grillby together. Not anymore, and never again.

Nonetheless, the taste of wood smoke and salt was replaced with something bitter for the rest of his way. But the sight of home made it easier to breathe again.

Quiet as a shadow he moved through the dark rooms, silently opening the door to the children’s room. There, bundled under the covers, Sans and Papyrus were sleeping peacefully. Sans still had a book in his hand, finger making the spot, a little flashlight still on. He must had dozed off in the middle of reading. Papyrus had tossed and turned in his sleep enough for his blanket to pool around his legs, and for Theodore the teddy bear to fall on the floor.

A smile spread across his face.

He entered the room, careful not to step on the comics and toys strewn across the floor. He really should tell the boys to clean up their room tomorrow.

Making his way to Sans at first, with a quiet _click!_ he turned off the flashlight, and put the book on the night stand, mindful to place a mark between the pages so that Sans would once again find his spot. Next, he tucked Papyrus in properly, rescued Theodore off the floor to the bed where he belonged, watchfully guarding his owners sleep.

He pressed a soft goodnight kiss on the temple of each boy, and just as silently as he’d entered, he left.

He’d never liked the trickery, the lies. The hunt. Playing the role of someone Grillby could fall in love with.

But for his sons, he’d do it. Maybe he didn’t like it, but it was his lot in life, it had always been. Sans and Papyrus depended on him to provide for them, and if spinning a web of lies for Grillby to get tangled in was what it took, he’d do it.

After all, they were his children. And children must be fed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is probably the biggest Tanz der Vampire reference of the whole fic, since the vampire ball is what the whole musical is about. Also there ended up being a lot more stuff in general than anticipated. A bit of a peek to Gaster's baggage and all that.
> 
> Whelp, merry Christmas! Or any mid-winter celebration of your choice ^^ The update schedule should normalise again now that finals season is over and done with.


	10. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At longs last, the ship has properly set sail! Huzzah!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we have some FANART I want to give a shoutout to!
> 
> [Here we have a fangy boi, looming menacingly](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/180306832188/silverskye13-hey-uhhhhhhhhhhh-anchestor-im)   
>  [A lovely metaficlet about Gaster giving Profoundly's OC a nibble](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/181164216213/profoundlytenaciousgalaxy-i-finally-got-a)
> 
> [Skye also doodled a BoN reverse AU where Grillby is the world worst creature of the nigh, considering he doesn't have any ability to blend into the shadows](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/180920112623/anchestor-has-me-hooked-on-vampires-now-and-here)   
>  [There were also thoughts about a Vampire hunter!Grillby BoN-AU where things got mildly out of hand](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/181353159698/bon-au-where-grillby-is-a-vampire-hunter-d-got)
> 
> Like I've gushed on Tumblr, I am very grateful and flattered about fanart! Thank you so much ^

Grillby carefully searched his Soul as he stared down the store shelf. He was in the mood for pasta, that much he knew, but pasta alfredo or pasta carbonara?

Alfredo, he decided, and selected a suitably sized piece of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

With the last of his shopping done, Grillby headed to the counter.

“Hi, Bonnie”, he greeted as he placed his groceries in the reach of the shopkeeper.

“Hiya, Grillby!” Bonnie answered, cheerful despite her tired eyes. She’d caught the illness a few weeks ago, and one of her sisters had to cover the shop for her. Bonnie was probably still recovering.

“How have you been? How are things? Anything new going on?” she asked as she rang up Grillby’s shopping’s.

“Oh, not much,” he shrugged dismissively. Bonnie was always so talkative! “Things have been slow at the bar. I guess it’s because of the flu, getting sick doesn’t really put you in the mood for burgers.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sure things will pick up soon though!”

“I hope so”, Grillby said as he paid.

The door behind him opened and closed, letting in a breeze of cold air.

“Hello”, said a voice, it’s odd accent distinct and familiar. “Oh! Hello, Grillby!”

“Hi, Gaster”, Grillby greeted as Gaster walked up to the counter, snow coating the shoulders of his long black coat. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Well, I hope the surprise was a pleasant one.” Gaster smiled, something flirty in his tone.

“Has my parcel arrived?” he asked of Bonnie.

“Yup!” Bonnie popped into the back, returning with a box wrapped in brown paper and stamped with ‘FRAGILE’ stickers. Snowdin’s post packets were usually delivered to the store, since there wasn’t a separate post office.

Grillby whistled. Gaster’s package was a rather sizable one!

“What have you got there?” Grillby asked.

“Oh, just something to restock my chemistry set. Litmus paper, a new retort, an extra Bunsen burner, that sort of thing.” Gaster signed for the parcel.

“Well then. You’ll be coming around on Tuesday? Same time as usual?” Gaster reached to touch Grillby’s arm, his smile dazzling.

“Yeah”, Grillby nodded, and his flame sparked happily.

“Most wonderful.” Gaster leaned in and stole a quick but bold kiss from Grillby.

“See you soon, my darling”, he murmured as they parted.

Gaster took his package into his arms, seemingly unaware of Grillby’s furiously blue face and flustered flickering. “Good day!” he hollered as he left.

“Come again sometime!” Bonnie waved. As soon as the door closed, a sly grin spread on her face.

“ _Not much_ new going on, huh, Grillby?” she teased. “I knew you two have been mingling, but I had no idea you two have been _mingling!_ ”

“Oh- I mean- We- I-” Grillby struggled to find the words, his Soul still racing. “Things are still, um. Recent. We’ve only started seeing each other- I mean we’ve been seeing each other a while, but, like, as in that kind of seeing each other-”

Bonnie giggled.

“Well, I’m happy for ya! You got yourself quite the catch.” she winked.

“Yeah.” Grillby gathered his groceries, still aware of the blue in his flame. He needed to escape. “Well, I need to get these in the fridge, so, uh, have a nice day.”

“Bye now!” Bonnie called as Grillby left.

His shopping bag in hand, Grillby walked the quick trip home with hasty steps. Bonnie was a nice enough person, but she was also the worst gossip of the town. By tomorrow all of Snowdin would know that he and Gaster were together, he was sure of it. And while their relationship suddenly being revealed to all like that was embarrassing…

There was a small part of Grillby that felt a little proud. There was something pleasing about knowing that Gaster, gorgeous, worldly, charming Gaster, had picked him above everyone else. And now they all would know it.

 

 

There had been an unexpected reaction to Gaster and Grillby declaring themselves a couple, namely from the skeleton children.

It happened a few days after the ball. Grillby came over for some board games, as usual, and Gaster greeted him with a little kiss on the cheek.

“Oh? Is this something we’re doing now?” Grillby said, his face flushing, his hand touching the spot.

Gaster wrapped his arms around Grillby’s waist to pull him close.

“I think a little peck is a fine way to greet one’s beau”, he murmured.

“Beau?” Grillby asked, unfamiliar with the word. “Is that like a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, ‘boyfriend’ is such an awful term.” Gaster made a face. “It’s just so… _Teenager-y._ Hardly proper to describe a relationship between two grown men!”

“Mmm. I don’t really care what we call this”, Grillby said, leaning his forehead against Gaster’s. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

Gaster smiled. He leaned forward, kissing Grillby softly, unhurried.

“I’m happy too”, he whispered once they parted.

Gaster then pulled away, taking Grillby by the hand and leading him to the couch.

“Well then. How about a nice game of chess?”

They had barely began arranging the planet-coloured pieces to the starry-patterned board, when their talk was interrupted by a sound of stomping coming from the stairs.

“FATHER, WHEN IS-” Papyrus’s voice rang loud as he bounced down the steps, abruptly halting as he noticed Grillby. “OH. YOU ARE ALREADY HERE.”

“Hi, Papyrus.” Grillby did a little wave as a greeting.

“YES. HELLO.” Papyrus straightened himself. Then, in a staggeringly Gaster-like manner, he moved to hold his hands behind his back. “FATHER, MAY I BORROW GRILLBY FOR A MOMENT? I WISH TO DISCUSS SOMETHING WITH HIM. PRIVATELY.”

Grillby was suddenly both mildly amused and uneasy. Judging by the way he spoke, with carefully arranged and practiced words, Papyrus had scripted his lines beforehand. It was like the child was trying to sound more adult, but combined with his young voice his seriousness came off as comically odd.

However, if whatever this was about was this important to Papyrus… It did set a worry gnawing at Grillby’s stomach.

“Of course”, Gaster said, raising a curious brow. “Just be nice, alright?”

Papyrus nodded, and turned to climb back up the stairs. “WE CAN TALK IN OUR ROOM.”

Grillby glanced at Gaster, who shrugged.

“Just go along with it. I’m sure it won’t take long, whatever it is”, he said quietly, starting to arrange the chess pieces on the board again.

Trying not to fret too much, Grillby got up, and followed Papyrus to the children’s room upstairs.

The room looked about the same as Grillby remembered it, save for the ever-evolving mess on Sans’s side, and Papyrus’s action figures being re-arranged. Sans was lying on his bed, engrossed by some kid’s sci-fi novel. Papyrus, on the other hand-

Oh _jeez_.

Gaster’s big leather desk chair had been dragged into the middle of the room, it’s back facing the door, two bony legs visibly dangling in the air, too short to reach the floor. Toes kicking the chair into motion, the seat turned, revealing Papyrus. The boy had a triceratops plush on his lap, and he was slowly petting its soft fabric.

“SO. GRILLBY”, he began, his words slow and deliberate. “HOW WAS THE BALL? DID YOU ENJOY YOURSELF?”

Grillby took a moment to process both the question, and that the child of his new boyfriend was acting like a movie villain.

“It was nice”, Grillby said, trying to keep an air of nonchalance not to reveal how weirded out he felt.

“I mean, the party itself was kind of boring”, he added, remembering how badly Papyrus had been disappointed that he didn’t get to go. “But I had fun. It was nice to spend time with Gaster. Dance with him, and. Stuff.”

“YES…” Papyrus leaned back on the chair. “ _STUFF_.”

“Yep…?” Grillby said, starting to feel a little awkward.

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed.

“I AM GOING TO TALK STRAIGHT WITH YOU, GRILLBY-”, he began.

_Oh by the_ starts  _please do_ , Grillby thought.

“FATHER SAID YOU TWO HAD AN ENJOYABLE EVENING. THAT THINGS ARE GOING WELL. THAT YOU HAVE BEEN…” Papyrus paused dramatically. “ _CANOODLING._ ”

Grillby almost snorted. By the way he spoke, he would have thought the boy was going to subtly accuse him of murder.

“Well, that is true”, he admitted, trying to keep a straight face. If this all was important enough for Papyrus to set the whole scene up like this, he wasn’t going to laugh, no matter how absurd things got. The boy would be offended, if not hurt.

“YOU KNOW…” Papyrus said slowly, petting the triceratops.

“BEFORE FATHER DECIDED TO START INVITING YOU OVER REGULARLY, HE ASKED IF WE WOULD BE OKAY WITH IT. YOU SEEM LIKE A DECENT ENOUGH PERSON, SO WE ALLOWED IT. AND SINCE FATHER SEEMS TO LIKE HAVING AN ADULT FRIEND TO TALK ABOUT BORING ADULT THINGS WITH, WE’VE CONTINUED TO NOT SAY ANYTHING AGAINST YOU, EVEN IF HE SPENDS STUPID AMOUNTS OF TIME WITH YOU. BUT MAKE NO MISTAKE, GRILLBY”, he said, his voice dipping into something low. Grillby might have found it threatening if it hadn’t come from someone half his size.

“WE ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT INFLUENCE ON FATHER’S DECISIONS. AND SHOULD YOU DO SOMETHING TO UPSET HIM, EVEN IF HE WERE WILLING TO FORGIVE YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS, WE CAN MAKE HIM STOP SEEING YOU.” Papyrus tilted his head up, doing his best to look down his nose at Grillby. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

As Papyrus spoke, dots began to connect in Grillby’s head.

“…are you giving me the ‘don’t make him cry or else’-talk?” he asked slowly.

Papyrus suddenly began to avoid eye contact. “P-PERHAPS!”

It took a lot of Grillby not to laugh like he had resolved. The whole situation was just too damn weird! He’d heard plenty of overprotective parents acting threatening towards the new sweethearts of their children, but the reverse happening was certainly new!

“Okay. I’m going to be straight with you, alright kiddo?”

“DON’T CALL ME KIDDO, I’M A BIG BOY-!”

“ _Listen_ ”, Grillby said with emphasis. “I like Gaster very very much. And you clearly care about him a whole lot, I get that. But so do I. The last thing I want to do is make Gaster upset or hurt him in any way.”

Grillby smiled in a way he hoped was encouraging.

“I promise I’ll do my best to be worthy of Gaster. So. Are we cool?”

Papyrus squinted, as if judging him.

“OUR FATHER IS THE BEST, SO YOU BETTER!” he finally said. “AND WE’LL BE KEEPING AN EYE SOCKET ON YOU.”

With that, Papyrus hopped off the desk chair, and handed the triceratops plush to Sans, who took it without looking up from his book.

“THANK YOU FOR LENDING TOPSY TO ME, SANS! THEODORE ISN’T REALLY THE RIGHT SHAPE FOR PETTING MENACINGLY!”

“no problem, bro”, Sans answered, placing the plush on the crook of his arm.

“hey, grillby?”

“Yeah?” Grillby replied, already starting to grasp for the door handle.

“i think it’s good that you two are having fun with the whole dating thing going official, i’m happy for you”, Sans said casually, eyes till fixed on the book in his hands. “but, could you, like, not suck face _right_ in front of us? ‘cause i don’t need to see that.”

“Of course”, Grillby promised.

“cool. thanks.”

With that, Grillby was finally allowed to leave (although he did hold the door open for Papyrus as he wheeled the desk chair back to its rightful place). Once he descended the stairs and got back to the living room, Gaster was ready, the chess pieces neatly arranged on their proper squares.

“So, what was that all about?” Gaster asked as Grillby settled on the couch.

Grillby recounted Papyrus’s little spiel, and Gaster laughed.

“I’m sorry about that. I suppose the children aren’t used to having to share me with other people”, he said, still grinning widely.

A thought flared in Grillby’s head, the thought of the quietly absent fourth member of the skeleton family. Now would be a bad time to ask about the other parent of the boys, he quickly decided.

“What kind of movies have you been showing them is my question! I swear, Papyrus would make an excellent pint-sized Bond villain with that kind of an act!” Grillby joked.

Gaster laughed again, and that made Grillby smile. He liked Gaster’s laugh, the way his accent hiccupped and garbled sounded a little strange, but so uniquely like _him_ that Grillby couldn’t help but adore it.


	11. Wild rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After long last, Grillby and Gaster have the fateful "food" talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire lore has gone through a massive evolution over the years, people coming up with new stuff, disregarding the old and copying each other, "Our Vampires Are Different" even has its own TV tropes page. For example, Dracula and Carmilla both were able to walk on sunshine just fine, they just lost their superpowers during the day. Death by sun was introduced first in Nosferatu in 1922, it looked dramatic and therefore stuck. Then there is the more obscure stuff from Dracula, the Big Daddy of all modern vampires, like turning into mist and wolves and riding moonbeams. The wall crawling ability originates from Dracula too, but it's actually not a superpower: Dracula climbs up and down his castle wall, but it's simply just a bumpy wall, and the very human Jonathan is able to climb it just as easily.
> 
> But there is one lore bit that has been lost to the ages than I wish so badly would be integrated into the modern lore of sexy vampires: A wild rose placed on the vampire's casket would prevent them from leaving until the rose is removed. And that little thing has so much romantic potential! Get on it urban fantasy writers!

Grillby manoeuvred the basket in his arms, and knocked. As always, Gaster was quick to open the door.

“Good evening, darling”, he greeted. Gaster might have been wearing his regular sweater, but damn if he didn’t look good in it. Maybe it was the way his smile lit up his features.

“Hi!” Grillby answered, stepping inside and stomping the snow off his shoes on the doormat.

“I brought you something!” he exclaimed as they sat on the couch. He had brought the basket with him.

“Oh?” Gaster uttered quizzically as Grillby pushed the basket into his hands. “What might this be?”

He pulled the red and white chequered cloth aside, revealing the golden brown, freshly baked loaf.

“Garlic bread. My own recipe”, Grillby said proudly.

“Oh, Grillby. You shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, it was nothing! I honestly can’t believe it took me this long to bring you something, I like making food for people. Besides, it was no trouble-”

“ _No_ , Grillby”, Gaster said intently. “I mean, you _really_ shouldn’t have.”

Grillby finally noticed that Gaster’s smile had dropped. He was eyeing the load with distaste, before he once again covered it with the cloth.

“I’m allergic to garlic.” Gaster pushed the basket back into Grillby’s arms. “And bread.”

Bewildered, Grillby tightened his grip on the basket. “You’re allergic to _bread_?”

“Celiac disease”, Gaster said blankly. “I can’t eat anything with wheat. Or barley. Or rye. Or things that might have been in contact with them.”

Gaster gave a tired sigh. “Or dairy. Or things that might have been in contact with dairy. Or nuts, eggs, soy, fish, shellfish…”

Gaster frowned. “Honestly, I think what I’m not allergic to would be the shorter list.”

“That’s…” Grillby took a moment to process. “That’s a lot of allergies.”

Gaster shrugged.

“Bad luck, I suppose. The boys inherited them too. Makes cooking pretty difficult. That’s why we have the supplement bottle in the fridge”, he said, nodding towards the kitchen.

Grillby remembered the cough syrup bottle of the thick red liquid. DT-V-something? Vitamins? Something like that.

“I’m sorry.” Grillby stared at the basket in his hands, then placed it on the floor just to have a moment to look away. He felt embarrassed. Silly. Stupid. Something cold and awful wrung his stomach. “I should have checked what you eat before bringing food over- I just wanted to surprise you, and then it’s something you can’t even have-”

“Shh. None of that.” Gaster pressed a finger in Grillby’s lips, silencing him. “It was a nice gesture, I appreciate it.”

Gaster’s smile was gentle. Encouraging. “It just lacked some forethought, that’s all.”

Grillby felt his flame warming again. He took Gaster’s hand, and pressed it against his cheek, the bony fingers cupped by his own palm. Gaster slowly thumbed his face, the touch a tender caress.

“What is something you can eat then? Maybe I could make you-”

“No, don’t”, Gaster said hastily. He sighed.

“Grillby, I’m grateful of what you’re trying to do, but please, _don’t_. I’ve had people cook for me before, people who had a full list of what I could eat and not, but there’s always something. Some slip up, some spice, hell, just using cookware that has been in contact with some offending item could end up making me sick, that _has_ made me so sick- Please-” Gaster entreated. “I know it’s silly, but I just _can’t_ eat food I haven’t made myself.”

“Okay, okay”, Grillby appeased. If this was so distressing for Gaster, he wouldn’t press it. That would make him the happiest. “I won’t try to cook for you, I promise.”

“Thank you.” Gaster wrapped his arms around Grillby’s neck, leaning closer. “And I still think such a kind deed deserves a little reward…”

Grillby’s Soul beat hard in anticipation. “A reward?”

Gaster smirked. He closed the gap between them, the kiss slow but intense. Gaster gently nipped Grillby’s lower lip with his teeth, drawing a sharp gasp from Grillby, driving his flame into hot blues. Then Gaster switched to kissing the side of his mouth, one hand remaining by Grillby’s neck, the other trailing along his chest.

Grillby reached forward, cupping Gaster’s face with his hands, and pressing his lips against his teeth, doing his best to make it a good kiss.

They parted, quietly panting. Their eyes locked, Gaster’s pitch-black eye sockets with their little white lights meeting Grillby’s eyes of golden glow.

“Well, if you can’t eat the bread, do I at least taste good?” Grillby joked.

Gaster gave an odd sort of chuckle, the noise a little wheezy, a little wild.

“Oh Grillby. You are simply _mouth-watering_ ”, he murmured low.

 

 

 

_The party was loud. The ballroom music, the clinking of glasses, the laughter of guests. Everywhere around him, people. Ballgowns and suits, pearls and silk ties. Every single one wearing a mask, some simple, some artfully crafted. The dance spun around him, spun, spun, spun._

_He needed air._

_He fled the sea of masked people, the music, the dance. An open door lead to the dark cool night._

_The garden of was as lavish as the manor itself, statues, fountains, gaslight lamps that flickered their dim light. He flickered back at them, walking along the path, the sounds of the party growing ever quiet. Silence surrounded him._

_It was a foggy night. Tendrils of silvery mist poured into the garden, obscuring the sight._

_Maybe he should go back, he thought. While he still could find his way through the mist._

_There was movement in front of him, a sound. Laughter that hiccupped and garbled, a black suit, a black mask, a white skull obscured by the silvery mist._

_He ran after the figure in the fog, after the laugher, after the movement. Suddenly, there were walls of green leaves all around him, speckled with bright red blossoms. The hedge maze of the garden, made of wild roses._

_Movement in the corner of his eyes. He rushed after it._

_Wall after wall, turn after turn, the maze of roses winded around him, silvery mist obscuring the sight. Always when he felt lost, he heard the laughter, saw a glimpse of black and white to run after. And he ran, ran, ran._

_Something was chasing him. He heard it growling, purring like a panther enjoying the hunt. He ran, he fled, hoping to lose the beast in the maze of roses. And he ran, ran, ran._

_He didn’t know why he ran anymore. If he was chasing something or being chased. If he was trying to find his way out of the maze, or into its centre. Whatever it was, needed to find it, he needed to run, his red dress shoes pounding against the grass._

_Suddenly, everything_ hurt _. He tried to scream, but no sound came out, tried to move, but couldn’t. His body was pricked and pierced and torn and clawed, all he could see thorns, stems, blood red roses._

_Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. A hand had taken him by his wrist, pulled him out of the roses, out of the thorns. A bony hand with a hole in it._

_He was lying on the ground, on his back. His head rested on Gaster’s lap, his chest slowly rising and falling. Still reeling from the pain._

_They were at the centre of the maze._

_Gaster was softly caressing his cheek, humming a sad, soothing melody. It was some lullaby, Grillby knew, but he couldn’t recall the words._

_From behind his black silk mask, Gaster smiled at him._

_“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Gaster said, holding a wild rose in his hand. “Their colour so red, their scent so intoxicating… And yet, their thorns so sharp.”_

_Gaster bent down, pressing a kiss on Grillby’s temple._

_“Stay with me”, he whispered, pleaded, and placed the wild rose on Grillby’s chest. It weighed him down like a stone, and he couldn’t move. It was like his wrists and ankles were bound with heavy iron shackles, his clothes made of lead._

_“Stay, and never leave me.”_

_“Never”, Grillby gasped._

_Gaster smiled down at him. His teeth were cool and sharp as he kissed him._

 

Grillby’s alarm beeped mercilessly, red numbers of the clock glaring at him to get up.

Grillby groaned. He’d gone to bed early, how on earth did he feel so tired? Could it really be the sickness going around?

If this was due to an illness, it seemed to weirdly come and go. It never lasted long, just a day or two of feeling tired and hungry and his head hurting. Not even proper exhausted tired, just a feeling off, not feeling up to doing things but getting bored by rest kind of tired. He would even have gone to work, if his job didn’t involve other people’s food. Then an irregular interval of about a few weeks where he felt fine before he fell ill again.

It was strange. But he wouldn’t the only one who had caught the disease again: as time went on, people fell ill for a second time, then a third. Especially the canine unit kept getting sick again and again, as did the Snowdin teens. Both groups did spend a lot of time in the cold winter air as they roamed the forest tough, so it did make a certain amount of sense for them to be more susceptible to the illness.

That didn’t explain Grillby’s swaying health, he stayed mostly indoors. Besides, the sickness seemed to be losing its edge, it wasn’t nearly as common as it had been in the beginning of the flu wave. But wasn’t that how immunity worked? You got sick, and then your body knew how to fight it better the second time around? Then why did Grillby keep getting ill? Maybe his sickness wasn’t the influenza at all, but something else entirely?

Grillby yawned as he dragged himself out of bed, put his glasses on and sauntered to his closet. Maybe he should make an appointment at the Snowdin health centre and get himself checked. It would probably take a while to get in, the place had their hands full with actual influenza patients, but at this point it felt like this wasn’t the type of thing to just wait out. Ugh, he hated making phone calls…

Now, what did he feel like wearing today? A nice white dress shirt, that was a given. Couple that with a black vest and pants, he wasn’t in the mood for experimenting. Grillby eyed his large bowtie rack, neatly organized by colour, fabric and pattern. A respectable silver, or maybe a safe black? Nah, too boring.

His eyes fell on a scarlet silk bowtie. He reached for it, touching the smooth fabric with his fingers. He’d worn it at the ball.

Maybe a little overkill for an ordinary day, but maybe that was what he needed right now. A bright red pick-me-up, something fancy to lift his spirits.

Grillby was quick to change, the familiar routine carrying his body through his sleepy haze. He folded his pyjama pants and hid them under his pillow. He walked over to the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, the bowtie would be easier to tie evenly if he could see what he was doing. He started with the lowest button and worked his way up, as always, it was the simplest way to make sure he didn’t slip the buttons into the wrong buttonholes.

He was halfway up his chest when he looked into the mirror, his hands abruptly stopping. He stepped closer to the mirror, adjusted his glasses to make sure he was actually seeing correctly, and pulled the fabric of his collar to the side.

There, at the base of his neck. Two small dots, about the width of two fingers apart, each no bigger than the head of a sowing pin. He regarded them closely. The dots didn’t look like water wounds, those were dark and painful. But his fire didn’t burn there as it should either. It glowed like a bright ember rather than flickering with a flame.

He raised his hand to touch them carefully. He ran his fingers across them, his touch feather light, and felt nothing. No coolness, no bumps. Then he pressed his index finger against the lower of the dots, hard.

He hissed as pain flared on his neck, jolting from the mark. It felt like a needle pressed into his skin, the way it pricked.

Lowering his hand, Grillby looked at the dot he’d pushed down on. It didn’t look agitated, simply glowing like its pair.

He pursed his lips, unhappy. He finished buttoning up his shirt, and tied his bowtie on a little looser than usual so that it didn’t press against the marks.

He should make that appointment at the health centre sooner rather than later.


	12. Sponge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie
> 
> This is just fanservice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanservice, and a convoluted ploy to get in a very obscure dick joke just for my own amusement

The bar hustled and bustle as it was so prone to do. Grillby wasn’t sure if it was the slowly receding flu wave allowing people out of their homes, or if he was just getting used to the smaller amount of clientele. Maybe it was a combination of both.

But that night, things felt particularly, comfortingly _normal_. The entire canine unit was gathered around the table to play poker, Drunk Bun, Red Bird and Big Mouth were gossiping, Ugly Fish was telling everyone who’d listen that he was waiting a call, Punk Hamster was trying to act cool. Just for a moment, Grillby could close his eyes, let his hands polish a glass from muscle memory and bask in the feeling that everything in the world was as it should be.

Grillby’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Gaster. The two of them had been messaging back and forth for a while now, just regular idle chatter, but Grillby liked it.

_\- We found the hill you recommended_ , the text read. Attached was a picture of Sans and Papyrus sledding down the snowy hillside, a little blurred due to the motion but their delight clear.

Grillby smiled to himself as he typed.

_\- Are you going to try it out yourself?_

_\- Apparently_ , Gaster replied. This time the picture was of Papyrus, his grip on Gaster’s wrist firm as the child dragged his father along.

_\- So? It’s a good hill isn’t it?_

It took a moment until his phone buzzed again.

_\- hi im gaster and i cant pay attention for squat sans is my favobxqwaghjfgklakfgjk_

Grillby stared at the screen for a moment. A wide grin spread on his face, his flame blooming warm. He covered his mouth with a fist as he chuckled, trying and failing to keep his laughter in.

“What’s so funny?” Red asked, putting down his expresso.

“I bet he’s texting his _boyfriend_ ”, Big Mouth teased.

“Ugh, no f-f-f-fair”, Bun lamented, then hiccupped. “How am I s-s-s-supposed to find a hot guy to date if all the hot guys are d-d-dating each other??”

“There, there”, Red said sympathetically.

Grillby put his phone away and placed a small water bottle in front of Bun. Usually when she began to bemoan Snowdin’s lack of hot guys, it was the time to cut her off.

A group of bears entered the bar and settled in one of the booths, and Grillby got to work. Distributing menus, taking orders. Burgers, fries, coffee, drinks, beer. Bills and change, gathering dishes. Polishing glasses when things died down. The evening went on, and his phone remained silent.

“Come one, let me try some, I wanna try a new drink, you’re always drinking that, it’s got to be good-”, Bun whined, reaching for Red’s espresso. Red sheltered his cup with his wing.

“This is strong stuff! It takes a refined taste to appreciate the bitterness!” He said.

“I _am_ -” she hiccupped. “-r-refined!”

“You wouldn’t like it!”

“I b-b-bet I would!”

“Then get your own!”

“I’ll show you!” she said with drunken firmness. “Grillby! A big coffee! A big, big one!”

After a moment of hesitation, Grillby got to making the order. Maybe some coffee would do Bun some good.

The order done, Grillby handed it to Bun.

“Thanks, Gril-”

The cup clattered as it hit the table, Bun yelped. Grillby shrieked as the hot liquid splashed on him, spilling out. On instinct he grabbed the front of his shirt, trying to hold the wet fabric as far away from his body as possible.

Bun stared at the pool of coffee slowly spreading across the table.

“I’m sorry”, she babbled. “I’m so so sorry Grillby, my paw slipped, stars, I’m so sorry-!”

“I need to change”, Grillby muttered, trying to keep himself composed as the wetness pricked against his skin. He turned on his heel and strode off.

Once again, Grillby was thankful to his past self on deciding to live in the upstairs of his bar. Maybe it blurred the lines of work time and off time, but it sure was nice to have a place to change his clothes with his whole wardrobe at hand.

Hissing as his fingers grazed the wet stain, Grillby unbuttoned his shirt and vest and removed them. He regarded the garment with distaste. The coffee stain was large, it’d be a pain to wash off. Next, he examined his stomach. His flame was rekindling again already. Good.

Grillby tossed the stained clothes into the hamper, he’d deal with them later. As he picked out a fresh white button up and a silver-grey vest with it, his phone buzzed.

Curious, the new shirt in one hand and his phone in the other, Grillby pulled up the new message. It’s been a while since Gaster’s last text.

_\- Pardon my radio silence_ , it read. _There was something of a hostage situation, and one of the terms in the return negotiations of my phone was that I’d put it away while we were out._

_\- Which is completely reasonable, in retrospect._ read the next message that chimed in. _Family is not just about quality time, but also about quantity time._

_\- That’s a good line. Someone should embroider it on a throw pillow_ , Grillby typed.

_\- Did I miss out on anything while I was away?_

_\- Yeah, actually._ Grillby quickly recounted the coffee incident to Gaster.

_\- Oh no, are you hurt?_ Gaster texted as soon as Grillby got to the part about the cup spilling.

_\- Nah. Coffee isn’t pure water, and since it’s food it had magic mixed into it. Doesn’t injure, just hurts if I get it on me,_ Grillby explained.

_\- I’m relieved to hear that._

_\- I’m honestly more annoyed about the laundry. Coffee stains are obnoxious,_ Grillby typed to lighten the mood.

On a whim, Grillby set his ensemble of the grey vest, white shirt and black bow tie on the bed, and took a picture and sent it to Gaster.

_\- Think this’ll look good?_

_\- Darling, you always look good. Your taste in clothes is impeccable!_

There was a small pause, then another text came in.

_\- For how long of this conversation have you been shirtless?_

Grillby snorted.

_\- All of it. Why?_

_\- You mean to tell me I could have been picturing you without your shirt all this time? I honestly feel like I missed out on some very appealing mental images._

And idea popped into Grillby’s head. A brave idea, or a very foolish one. Or both. It was an idea to make his face flush.

He’d never done this sort of thing before, but it wasn’t unusual, right? This was something couples did? And besides, he was just shirtless, just his chest and arms exposed. Nothing too risqué.

His mind settled and Soul racing, Grillby typed a message.

_\- I think I can make you up for that. Hang on a minute_

Grillby switched to his camera, stretched his arm, and posed with his arm on his hip and a smile on his face. No no no, that was all wrong, that looked like he was keeping track of his fitness. Grillby tried sitting down on the bed, but that ended up looking awkward, then taking a picture through the mirror, but that looked just dumb.

He pursed his lips, glaring at the failed photos. Why was it so hard to look good? He glanced at the clothes on the bed, a new idea forming.

He grabbed his fresh shirt and put it on, but left the buttons unbuttoned. He adjusted the fabric so that it hung loose on his sides, leaving plenty of his chest and stomach exposed. He arranged himself, leaning a little forward, the phone in one hand and the other at the placket of his shirt, discreetly holding the front open.

His eyes hit the marks on his neck. In a flash of insecurity, he pulled his collar to cover them before he returned to his pose.

_Alright Grillby, you look good and you know it. Now show it_ , he thought to himself. He tried to give the camera his best sexy look, eyes half lidded and mouth just a little open. _Oh no, you caught me changing! But… I’ll let you have a peek._

After a few tires, he managed to snap something he was happy with. Something just a little naughty, just a little teasing.

He felt his fire sparking and flame flickering. His Soul beat hard as he finally hit _send_.

It took a brief moment for Gaster to reply. It felt agonizingly long.

_\- My, my, Grillby. This is quite the appealing image indeed._

A satisfied warmth spread to his face. Alright, play it cool.

_\- And as you can see, there’s not a scratch on me_ , Grillby typed.

_\- Frankly, not the first thing I noticed, but that is also good._

_\- So, what have you been up to? How was sledding?_ Grillby asked, not really sure if he should try to flirt or resume normal conversation.

_\- Oh, it was a wonderful time! It’s fun to sometimes let loose a little and play with the children. Although running around in the snow and climbing the hill up over and over again is tiring. Don’t get me wrong! Two beautiful sons are a blessing. But it can be a rather demanding blessing. So I thought I’d treat myself to a hot bath to soak my bones._

Soon the text was followed by a picture. Grillby flared blue when he opened it.

Not unlike Grillby’s semi-shirtless picture, the photo wasn’t technically anything too risqué. It was Gaster in a bath, naked, leaning against the edge of the of the tub in a casually relaxed manner. The framing only revealed the upper half of his body, cutting away at his spine, and even then everything lower than his sternum was obscured by the ripples in the water. His one hand was out of frame, presumably taking the picture with his phone. The other was holding a large bath sponge gingerly to his cheek, as if he had just been scrubbing his skull.

But _the look_ Gaster was giving the camera- giving _Grillby_. A cheeky smirk tugged his mouth, the gaze of his eye sockets was almost sensual. _Come hither_ , it said. _Come, and I’ll do things to you you’ll never forget._

Grillby blinked at the picture, his cheeks hot. Starts, how was he supposed to reply to that?

Grillby’s mind raced. Apparently, he took too long to answer, since Gaster sent another message.

_\- I hope you like what you see?_

_Okay Grillby, play it cool_ ,  _play it cool_ ,  _play it cool_ , he thought to himself. _He doesn’t need to know how flustered you are._

His hands gripped the phone tight as he typed.

_\- That is a very nice sponge_

Grillby buttoned his shirt up as he waited for Gaster to reply. That was enough teasing photos for now.

_\- Oh, it’s so soft, I delight in it_

Grillby smiled at the phone.

_\- Thanks for the chat, and the pic! But I think I need to get back to work now._

_\- Of course. And thank you for your photo, it was a wonderful surprise._

With his clothes refreshed and mind cheered, Grillby walked down the stairs and returned to the bar. Red and Bun had tried to manage the coffee spill with napkins, and Bun began to profusely apologize once Grillby arrived. Grillby waved her off, all forgiven. Accidents are accidents, no harm done. It wasn’t like Bun had meant to hurt him.

 


	13. Bitemarks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby get's that doctor's checkup he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE SCHEDULE NOTICE!
> 
> So, not to blather on too long, BoN is switching to be updated every two weeks for now. I think more time will result longer, more well rounded chapters.
> 
> However, I'll be opening drabble prompts, so if ya'll wanna shoot suggestions my way, hop on over to Tumblr ^^
> 
> Also, FANART FEATURE!
> 
> [#noshirtforgrillby2k4ever, what else could you want?](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/182678847248/ive-been-wanting-to-draw-something-for-anchestor)
> 
> [Ominously lit Gaster, looking cooool](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/182731572283/underneer-my-attempt-at-doodling-gaster-from)

Grillby tried to settle on the couch comfortably. He leaned on the back, stretching his arms out, he leaned forward, his chin resting on his propped up palm, he even tried to mirror Gaster’s cross-legged posture with his back straight.

He groaned. Why couldn’t he just settle!

“Grillby, is everything alright?” Gaster asked, not lifting his gaze from the movie they were watching. “You haven’t stayed still for longer than five minutes since the film stared.”

“My neck hurts”, Grillby grumbled.

“Oh?” This seemed to catch Gaster’s attention. “Would you like for me to get you a painkiller? Or a heat pillow?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad.” Grillby brought a hand to the back of his neck, trying to rub the sore spot. “I think I just slept weird.”

Gaster hmm-ed. He looked around the room, got up, and fetched a small stool that had been standing next to the bookshelf. He placed it in front of the couch, in front on his spot more specifically, and gestured towards it.

“Go on, sit. I’ll give you a backrub.”

Grillby sparked. “You don’t have to-”

“Please, Grillby”, Gaster interrupted. “It’ll be my pleasure. Come now.”

Eh, why not? Grillby switched from the couch to the stool. He removed his bowtie, opened a few buttons to loosen his collar, and folded it up to give Gaster easy access.

“What are the worst spots?” Gaster asked.

“Here.” Grillby pointed to the nape of his neck, and the back of his shoulders.

“I see. Well then, you just sit tight, watch the movie, and I’ll take good care of you.” Gaster’s voice was soft as he placed his hands on Grillby’s shoulders.

Grillby fixed his eyes on the television screen. He tried no to tense up as Gaster’s bony fingers began to knead his muscles, or whatever it was he had underneath his fiery skin. Instead he focused on the movie. It was a good film, the story about the boy befriending a dragon was delightful, and Grillby enjoyed the fire effects.

Slowly he began to relax.

Gaster’s touch on him felt nice, the way his clever hands gently massaged the knots out of his shoulders. It was almost intimate, in a way. Simply surrendering himself to Gaster’s ministrations, feeling as hands of bone wandered along his back, his neck, softly quelling the tension in his body.

Gaster had never been afraid to touch him, he realized. It wasn’t uncommon for monster to flinch away from him, away from his flame. Which he understood. Fear of fire was something primal, something fundamental in nature for humans and monsters alike. Over the course of his long life, he had come to terms with it.

But Gaster. Gaster never flinched. Never hesitated to hold his hand, to caress his cheek, to kiss him. Gaster had never feared to wrap his arms around Grillby and pull him close. And that made Grillby feel something warm and happy churning in his chest.

Gaster made his way to the base of Grillby’s neck, rubbing the skin there in a circular motion, inching forward. Grillby realized what was about to happen, he opened his mouth to warn Gaster, to tell him to stop. Just a second too late.

Grillby cried out as Gaster pressed into the sore spot on his neck. Grillby bent over, his hand flying to the agitated spot, as Gaster’s touch on him disappeared.

“Grillby, what happened?” Gaster asked urgently. “Did I hurt you?”

“A bit- It wasn’t your fault! I should have told you, this is all on me”, Grillby scrambled to answer. “I got these marks on my neck, they don’t hurt unless they’re poked- I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.”

“You’re sorry?” Gaster shook his head in disbelief. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you! God… How bad are they?”

“They’re fine…” Grillby gently rubbed the spot. The pain had been a sharp jolt, it was dissipating as quickly as it came.

“Can I see them?”

After a moment Grillby nodded, climbing back on the couch, facing Gaster. He pulled his collar aside, tilting his head back to better expose the little marks. Gaster paused the movie and leaned closer, intensely examining the marks with his eyes. He frowned.

“Gaster?” Grillby prompted as an idea came across his mind. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a doctor, right? But are you like a doctor doctor or a sciency doctor?”

Gaster took a moment to give Grillby a mildly appalled look.

“Both, actually”, he finally replied, with a manufactured kind on nonchalantness in his voice. “I have a medical doctorate, a doctorate of energy technologies, and a doctorate in Soul sciences. My most accomplished work has been in power plant engineering, but I consider myself more than proficient on all three fields.”

“Woah. That’s pretty impressive.”

“I’m older than I look.” Gaster shrugged. “Skeleton aging is… quite slow once we reach adulthood, so I’ve had plenty of time to study.”

Grillby nodded. Kind of like elemental aging then, his kind didn’t really get old either.

“So, do you know what these are? I’ve been trying to get an appointment at the health centre, but the queues are pretty long.”

“I’m not surprised, with the flu going on.” Gaster regarded the marks. “Have you had any other symptoms?”

“Yeah, actually. Feeling weak and tired, like I hadn’t slept, and headaches”, Grillby said. “But I thought they might just be because of the sickness?”

Gaster gave a knowing nod. “As I suspected. This is not related to the influenza. It’s a magic blockage.”

“A magic blockage?” Grillby hadn’t heard about those. Almost by itself his hand made its way to his neck to touch the marks.

“Yes.” Gaster’s expression was thoughtful. “How familiar are with magibiology?”

“…Monsters are made of dust and magic? And Souls?” Grillby said hesitantly. Book smarts had never really been his forte.

 

“…I see. We’re going to need a little more detailed physiology knowledge for this. Allow me to explain.” As Gaster spoke, his tone was different. It was calm and neutral. A teaching voice. “Dust, magic, and Souls, yes. Your Soul constantly generates magic to fuel your body. But the magic doesn’t flow evenly, it’s not like a sponge dipped in water that is saturated gradually. Rather, it’s a system of large arteries that branch out into smaller ones.”

“Like veins on a leaf?” Grillby asked.

“Exactly. Or blood vessels.” Gaster placed the tip of his pointed finger in the middle of Grillby’s chest. With his other hand he took hold of Grillby’s wrist, turning his hand palm up. “From your Soul, your magic travels all throughout your body, allowing you to move, to sense, to heal and to grow, as all living things do.”

As he spoke, he traced a path from Grillby’s chest, to his shoulder, down his arm, along the inside of his wrist, to the centre of his palm, his touch feather light.

“The big veins are in your underarms and inner thighs, to bring magic to your limbs. But the largest, most important veins are in your neck. The heaviest energy consumption happens in your head, since that’s where most of your senses are. Your sight, smell, taste, hearing, your kinesthesia and your balance.”

Now Gaster cupped Grillby’s cheek with his hand, lightly brushing Grillby’s lower lip with his thumb.

“Sometimes -and it is a rare ailment- these veins get blockages that prevent the magic from flowing fully. Blockages in the limbs result in feeling pins and needles, clumsiness and shaking. Neck blockages are more severe. Common symptoms are feeling tired, shortness of breath, dizziness, forgetfulness and troubles concentrating, nervousness and headaches.”

“That sounds like what I have”, Grillby said.

“The marks are a sort of bruising. There is too much magic at the other side of the blockage, so agitating it makes it want to burst”, Gaster explained, gesturing with his hands.

“Is there a treatment?”

“I’m afraid not.” Gaster frowned.

“It’s sadly a condition that’s very hard to study due to the nonphysical nature of magibiology, we can’t just cut you open to physically treat it like one would with thrombosis. But luckily, we don’t have to. The blockage should melt away on its own, with patience. In the meantime, try to take care of yourself.” He gave an encouraging smile. “Get a full night’s sleep, eat plenty of good food. You can exercise, but don’t overexert yourself.”

“Oh.” Grillby didn’t quite know what to say. It was a relief to hear that it wasn’t anything too bad, but he would have liked there to be something he could do about it. “It’s not contagious, is it?”

“It is not. You can work at the bar without worry. Just try to take it easy for a bit, okay?”

Grillby nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled. He reached for Gaster’s hand’s, lacing their fingers together.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, I’m glad to help.” Gaster thumbed the back of Grillby’s hand.

“And thanks for telling me about monster biology”, Grillby said. “Your teaching mode is pretty cool. I should ask you about sciency stuff more often.”

Gaster’s eye sockets lit up. “I’d be delighted to tell you more! Would you like for me to explain my idea for a bitumen-based vibration damper? It’s a pretty nifty way to keep the coolant pipes of a nuclear reactor in order-”

Grillby promptly pulled away, turning back to the TV in an exaggerated motion. “Ooor maybe we just get back to the movie about dragons.”

Gaster laughed. “Alright, alright.”

Soon they both were once again gripped by the movie. They boy rode the dragon across the sky, and Grillby found himself leaning on Gaster, resting his head on his shoulder. Somehow their hands had found their way to holding each other.

Gaster’s bony shoulder wasn’t the most comfortable spot to lean against. But Grillby found out that he really didn’t mind.

 

~~~~~~~

 

He waited patiently on his perch by the cliff, still as a gargoyle on a church roof. The short drop was abrupt, softened by the snow and hidden by the trees. The perfect place to stalk his victim.

The canine unit had its pros and cons. He sometimes wondered if the easy targets of lonesome guards were worth getting hair in his mouth. But the pack took care of its own. A sick dog was always nursed back to health. And since he’d been too greedy with Grillby, he had to find other pastures to prey on.

It’d been so easy with Grillby. The elemental was enamoured, his Soul growing softer every day, pliant and yielding to his bite. After drinking from the abundant well of Grillby’s magic, feeding off other Souls was like gnawing on an ice cube to quench his thirst. It was no wonder he’d overindulged.

But seeing the marks, hearing Grillby’s pained cry when they were touched…

He couldn’t afford the risk.

He’d have to step back. Hunt elsewhere. It wasn’t optimal, but he’d have to make do. And the time wasn’t wasted. Even if he had to cease his nightly visits for a while, every day he could spend enthralling Grillby. Oh, once the bitemarks healed, Grillby’s Soul would submit to him with barely any resistance. His patience would have the most wonderful reward, he was sure of it.

And even excluding the practical benefits… He found himself enjoying luring Grillby so much more than he could have imagined. There was a gentle comfort in the warmth of the fire elemental, something so very adorable in their slow courtship. Holding hands and innocent kisses, cuddles and silliness and laughing together, all those things that couples do.

In the midst of it all it was easy to forget the truth for a moment and pretend what happened between them was _real_.

Pretend that Grillby wasn’t simply dazzled by pretty words. That he-

…

He shook the thoughts away, waited, and listened. Snow crunched as one of the Dogi walked along the path. She’d made her rounds and was now returning to the sentry station. He let her walk past him before he jumped, landing right behind the guard. She barely had time to turn before he struck.

He acted swift. The bite happened with practiced ease, and he fed, the sensation of magic filling the hollowness within ecstatic. The exertion of hypnosis eating the full feeling away.

He sent the guard staggering towards the sentry station and disappeared into the shadows. He might have taken a little too much, but it’d be fine. Her husband would tend for her, get her home safely. Make sure she ate and rested. It eased Gaster’s mind to know that his victim would be thoroughly cared for. He’d seen the dog pair in passing, how the husband and wife doted on each other. It was sweet, really.

Gaster had been enamoured with the idea of marriage when he was a boy.

He remembered the very first wedding he’d ever attended. Sitting on the pews between his mother and father, dressed in his Sunday best, craning his neck to see past the grown-ups in front of him. The innkeeper had played the wedding march on his violin as the blacksmith’s daughter walked down the aisle, a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Little Windings had watched with wide eyes as she joined hands with the baker’s son, as they vowed to love and cherish each other until death. The grey-haired judge had said big official words from a big old book, and the baker’s youngest had marched to the altar with the rings, head held as high as her small stature would allow. Gaster remembered vividly the groom finally lifting the veil of the bride, revealing her glowing smile, and the cheers as they sealed their promises with a kiss.

Wedding was all he’d played that summer. He’d made little aisle’s and altars out of sticks, leaves and rocks, and decorated them with wildflowers and seashells. He must have married off hordes of pinecones under the warm June sun. And when winter came, he pestered his parents with constant questions about what their wedding, what they had worn, who they had invited, any little detail he could think of.

As he grew, he left behind his childish games, but he never stopped dreaming about the perfect wedding. All his friends would be invited (he was sure to have plenty by then!), the cake would be three tears - no, five! - covered in whipped cream and strawberries and little marzipan hearts, and the arch and arrangements and bouquet would have roses, lilies, baby’s breath-!

And his beautiful betrothed, the smartest, kindest, most wonderful person in the land, dressed in something white, or maybe black, nevertheless, it’d be stunning and exquisite! Whoever they were, his one true love, they’d adore him. He dreamt in detail about their kiss, how it’s be soft and tender, but also deep and passionate, and endlessly loving.

And as he grew older still, not a boy anymore but not quite a man yet either, he began to fantasize of his wedding night. About taking his one true love by the hand and leading them to their marriage bed. Slowly undressing them, kissing every bit of their body, caressing their most intimate parts. What it would be like to join in pleasure with another.

What it would like to be cared about so much, revealing all his secrets and shames and desires, showing all the jagged broken pieces he carried in his Soul. And they wouldn’t turn away, only look at him with want, with love.

…

Candara had disdained the idea of a wedding.

They were a half-witted waste, she’d said. An expensive dress she could only wear one, a fist full of flowers that would wilt before morning, and for what? Just to brag to others about how in love they were?

She was right, of course. He’d laughed with her about how silly his boyhood daydreams had been, how childish and immature. The fairy-tale wedding was just that, a fairy tale. Something he’d made up for his own entertainment before he was old enough to know how the world really worked.

Compromise, that was what all relationships were built on, wasn’t it? And if Candara didn’t want a big white wedding, then perhaps they could do something simple. Get the magistrate to marry them, just to make it official. Something only for the two of them.

At that, Candara had scoffed and rolled her eyes. If it was just a legal gesture, why bother? Wasn’t living together commitment enough, even more than marriage, in a way? It’d take weeks, months even to write one of them off the lease of the apartment, find a new place and move out. But it only took a second to pull a ring off a finger.

“Why are you so hung up on this, Windings?”, she had asked when she saw his downtrodden expression. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, held his close as she searched his eyes for something. “What good would it be for? Don’t you believe I already love you?  Do you really need a ring to remind you of that?”

“Of course I know you love me”, he’d said, and really meant it. “And I love you too! I just thought it’d be fun to celebrate it-”

“Oh Windings, you bonehead”, she’d sighed, and kissed him. “I love you so much, a silly wedding isn’t going to change a thing.”

Sacrificing a little, considering the other first, that was what love was all about. If Candara was so against it, it’d be selfish of him to push. So he let it go.

Perhaps it was for the better, in the end. All things considered.

He didn’t particularly like the idea of calling himself a widow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The magic biology is canon, Gaster is lying only about the blockage bit. The symptoms of magic loss are modelled after anaemia symptoms.
> 
> Also the bitumen vibration damper is an actual thing, if any of you are interested.


	14. Dhampir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About time Sans actually did anything relevant sheesh

He breathed quietly, lingering in that half-conscious state between sleep and awareness. The fabric of the couch was coarse, the throw pillow under his head a little uncomfortable.

Couch?

Yes, Grillby remembered now. They’d been watching a movie, him and Gaster, but Grillby could not find it in himself to concentrate. He’d worked late the night before, it had been the birthday of Bonnie the shopkeeper, and the bunny family celebrated in numbers. And, as he finally was able to sit down and relax, the results of his sleep deprivation began to creep in. Slowly he’d dripped from sitting to slouching, from slouching to lying down, curled on the couch as not to take space from Gaster. He must have dozed off.

Grillby sighed in his half-sleep. He felt a dull, detached sting of embarrassment of falling asleep in the middle of date night, but in his drowsy state he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much. Gaster was nice, he’d understand. The soft evening light soothed, and the smell of the house comforted him. He might as well rest a little longer.

He heard a sound, a quiet gasp, half a delighted giggle. He was not alone anymore, he could sense it.

He opened his eyes just a crack, his sight fuzzy without his glasses. The groggy paralysis of sleep still weighed down his body, rendering him motionless, his breathing shallow.

The room was the same, the DVD case of the movie they had watched left by the television. In the evening light opposite him were two short figures - Sans and Papyrus. They came close to Grillby, and looked at him for some time, and then whispered together. Sans was in a blue hoodie. Papyrus wore jean overalls with his red and yellow striped shirt, as well as a red scarf. Something about the situation made Grillby uneasy. Falling asleep on someone else’s couch was a little awkward after all, waking up in front of someone even more so. Maybe it’d be best the feign sleep until the boys left, he thought.

The two boys whispered together, and then they both laughed, a quiet giggle of childish glee. Sans shook his head playfully, and Papyrus urged him on. He said:-

“GO ON! YOU GO FIRST, AND I’LL FOLLOW; IT’S JUST RIGHT THAT YOU START.”

Sans hesitated, so Papyrus added:-

“HE’S NOT GOING TO WAKE UP; WE’LL BOTH HAVE OUR TURN.”

Grillby laid quiet, looking out his eyes barely open, rising uncertainty and uneasiness cutting though his sleepy haze. What was going on?

What was this weight he felt on his body, surely sleep wouldn’t leave him so completely paralyzed?

Sans advanced, kneeling by the couch and bending over Grillby till he could feel the movement of his breath upon him. Sans’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, his expression a mixture of intense concentration and barely contained giddiness.

Grillby’s eyes fell shut, anticipation of the strange situation thrumming though him. He could feel something pressing against his throat, something cool and hard-

“What the heck are you two doing?”

Gaster’s voice rang as it cut through the silent room. Papyrus yelped, Sans squeaked, and Grillby’s eyes flew all the way open.

He found himself looking at the grey bottom of an upturned metal paper basket, the rim resting on his throat. As he peered through the metal grid of the basket’s walls, he saw that his body had been covered in a jenga tower of odds and ends. Throw pillows, the desk lamp, photo frames in perilous, barely stable piles. There was even an impressive tower consisting off the contents of the pencil jar stacked on him.

Grillby blinked at the items balanced on him. If it weighed less than a milk carton and was found in the living room, it was in the pile.

“isn’t it obvious?” Sans asked, grinning wide, and placed an alarm clock on top of the heap.

“You little rascal”, Gaster huffed, suddenly stepping forward and scooping Sans under his arm. “Is this any way to treat a guest? Didn’t I tell you to be nice?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN GUEST, HE’S HERE PRACTICALLY EVERY OTHER EVENING-” Papyrus muttered.

Sans laughed. “you’re no fun!”

Papyrus joined Sans’s laugh, sniggering though his fingers.

“Oh? I can have fun too, you know!” Gaster grinned wide and gave the boy a noogie. Sans squealed and giggled, fruitlessly trying to squirm off Gaster’s hold.

“ _Ahem?_ ” Grillby uttered. “Could someone _please_ get this crap off of me? I feel like it’ll all come crashing down if I breathe too hard.”

“Of course, of course”, Gaster said as he finally let Sans down. “You heard the man boys, get to it.”

“AWWW”, Papyrus whined. “I DIDN’T EVEN TAKE A PICTURE YET…”

Together the skeleton family freed Grillby from the pile, and the boys returned the assortment of items to where they belonged.

“Now that the cleanup is done, how about you two apologize to Grillby?” Gaster prompted expectantly. “It’s not nice to jape people while they’re sleeping!”

“Oh, lighten up, Gaster”, Grillby placated. “It was a just a prank, and a small one at that. No harm, no fowl.”

“you know what grillby? you’re cool”, Sans said, grinning.

“Alright, alright”, Gaster said. “You two go play. But no more pranks on Grillby from now on, okay?”

“i make no promises!”

Sans and Papyrus scampered off, giggling.

Gaster sighed, crossing his arms. “Oh, children…”

“It’s no big deal”, Grillby said. “I can take a joke. And I guess the sleep jenga prank is pretty funny.”

“It’s just…” Gaster looked at Grillby intently. “I want you to feel comfortable here.”

Grillby reached for Gaster’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I already do”, he said softly. “I wouldn’t have fallen asleep on your couch if I didn’t!”

Gaster smiled.

“Now that you’ve had your nap, how about we watch another movie? Something exciting enough to keep you awake?” he suggested jokingly, and Grillby chuckled.

 

 

 

It was a bright, clear day. The air was fresh and crisp, it wasn’t too cold, the snow had a satisfying crunch to it. A perfect day to be outside. And while Grillby hadn’t thought that hanging out with Gaster on his day off would land him on the sidelines as Sans and Papyrus practiced their magic, he found himself quite content soaking up the weather and enjoying the show.

The two boys threw rather impressive bullet patterns across the clearing, their age considered. Sans was capable of producing an astonishing amount of attacks at once, and Papyrus’s varying shapes and sizes were a sight to behold.

Or course, boys being boys, it was only a matter of time that practice turned into horseplay.

“BEHOLD, BROTHER!” Papyrus announced, as he sent out a flurry of bones shaped into letters, spelling ‘COOLEST’.

“that’s a neat attack, bro. but you should practice dodging too.” Sans grinned. “here, i’ll help-”

With a _ting!_ Papyrus’s Soul was turned blue, and he was tossed into the air. It was just a hop, but the involuntary movement ended with Papyrus landing on his butt in the snow. Sans snickered.

“OH? WE’RE DOING BLUE NOW? OKAY!” Papyrus said with a glint in his eye sockets. “FOR I THINK YOU DODGE TOO MUCH, BROTHER DEAR!”

A row of blue bones was sent flying towards Sans, passing though the still boy harmlessly.

“an attack where you don’t have to do anything to win, sweet”, Sans quipped. “my turn! oh, you’re going to have a _blast_.”

Grillby could see the concentration on Sans’s face as he gathered his magic. Mouth pressed into a firm line, hands balled into fists, Sans breathed in heavily and closed his eyes. Above him, magic hummed to life, and manifested into-

Grillby gasped. It was like an animal skull, a dog perhaps, no, a dragon. Sharp jagged teeth in a large maw, large, meancing eye sockets.

“Sans-” Gaster began, but it was too late. A whirring sounded in the air, and the mouth of the skull began to glow with gathering light. It opened its jaw and-

The skull made a coughing sound, and little poot of light was sent out of its maw. Like it had spat out a cherry stone. With that, the skull dispersed.

“aww, man”, Sans whined, visibly upset. “it would have been so cool if it’d worked…”

“DON’T FRET, BROTHER!” Papyrus said in an attempt to comfort. “THE BLASTERS ARE VERY HARD!”

“Very hard indeed. I’d be surprised if you managed to fully utilize them before your teens”, Gaster said.

“Blasters?” Grillby asked surprised. “You can do more than just bones?”

“OF COURSE! THE MAGIC OF SKELETONS IS VERY VERSATILE AND DIVERSE AND COOL!” Papyrus bragged.

“Impressive. All I can do is fire”, Grillby said, summoning a little ball of flame on his palm. “Well, also heat I guess. But it’d be neat to have a little more variety.”

“could you show us the blasters? please?” Sans said, tugging Gaster’s sleeve to get his attention. “i’ll get it, i just need to see.”

“No, Sans. Practice your regular attacks”, Gaster said.

“why not?!”

“The blasters are straining, I’m not shooting them around willy-nilly.”

Papyrus looked back and forth between Sans and Gaster, his eyes finally fixating on Grillby. A sly grin spread on his face.

“YOU KNOW”, he began, stretching his words. “ _GRILLBY_ HASN’T SEEN THEM. I BET HE’D BE _SUPER IMPRESSED_ , AND THINK THAT YOU’RE _REALLY COOL_ FOR HAVING REALLY COOL ATTACKS-”

“ _Papyrus_.” Gaster said flatly. He gave the boy a look filled with _we’ve talked about this and I told you not to do it._

“RIGHT, GRILLBY?” Papyrus asked brightly, with a sweet smile as he blinked rapidly, oblivious to or maybe just ignoring Gaster’s look.

Grillby realized that:

  1. The boy was trying to flutter eyelashes he didn’t have
  2. This would be a good opportunity to score a few brownie points with the kids



“I am a little curious now, actually. If it’s not too much trouble to show”, he said, casually leaning back on the log he was sitting on.

For a moment Gaster’s face was completely unreadable. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, though Grillby noticed an amused smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Alright, alright. Just this once”, he said, and the boys cheered.

Sans and Papyrus scampered to the log, settling next to Grillby, eyes wide with excitement. Gaster rolled his shoulders back, standing up straight, and rotating his wrists a few times to loosen them up.

“Okay then. Grillby, could you be a dear and make me a target? Perhaps fire something into the air?”

Grillby nodded. He rubbed his palms together, and when he separated them, a ball of flame the size of his head flared to life, floating between his hands.

“Ready when you are”, he said.

Gaster smiled. He raised his hand, and with a flick of a wrist, his magic hummed to life, forming the blaster. The skull was larger than what Sans had summoned, both sharper and smoother, like a well-honed blade. Two cracks marred the blaster’s eye scokets, mirroring the scars on Gaster’s skull. The blaster roared quietly, like the rev of a sharply tuned engine, as bright light began to gather in its maw.

“Three, two, one.”

Grillby launched the fire ball up high. In one smooth, fluid motion Gaster aimed, and at the snap of his fingers the blaster fired. Thick, white laser beam was sent from its jaw, sniping the fire ball off the air. Their magics collided, crashed, exploding into a stunning shower of sparks and energy as Gaster’s laser tore through Grillby’s fire.

It was all over in a blink of an eye. The skull dissipated, and all that was left was the smell of smoke and ozone hanging in the air.

“that was-”

“-AWESOME!”

The boys clapped and cheered, and Gaster gave a playfully exaggerated bow.

Grillby clapped along with the children. He already thought that Gaster was ‘really cool’, as Papyrus had put it, but that had been an impressive display.

 

Papyrus hopped and skipped along the road ahead of them, still seemingly left with boundless energy even after training. Gaster and Grillby followed, Grillby internally debating if he could hold Gaster’s hand in front of the kids or if it’d be awkward. Sans, well.

Sans was slowly moseying along behind them, dragging his feet through the snowy path.

Gaster stopped, looking over his shoulder.

“Sans, don’t dawdle now”, he said.

The boy picked up his pace to catch up, slowling down again once he was by Gaster’s side. He pulled a hand out of his jacket pocket and wrapped his fingers around Gaster’s.

“’m tired”, he mumbled.

“…I see.” Gaster took hold of Sans’s hand, black leather gloves enveloping the small mitten. “I have told you not to strain yourself when training. You need to tell me if you’re reaching your limit-”

“i know.”

Gaster looked at the boy. Sans’ eye sockets were half-lidded, his expression drained, drowsy. Gaster sighed.

“It’s not a long way home. Just a little bit more, okay precious?”

Sans nodded.

Slowly they walked through the forest, letting Sans set the pace. Once they had reached the skeleton household and gone inside, Sans tugged on Gaster’s sleeve to get his attention.

“’m hungry”, Sans mumbled.

“…I see”, Gaster said quietly. “Papyrus, how are you?”

“FINE”, Papyrus answered, looking at his brother with concern.

“Very well. Why don’t you go play then. Grillby, could you wait by the couch for a moment? I’ll just”- Gaster took Sans by the hand and began to lead him towards the kitchen. “-fix something for Sans to eat.”

Before Grillby had time to answer, the two of them had already disappeared into the kitchen, the door closing shut behind them.

Grillby glanced at Papyrus.

“Is… is he alright?” Did this sort of thing happen often? Was Sans prone to episodes of fatigue, or was it just because of the magic he’d spent?

“HE’LL BE FINE.” Papyrus went to climb the stairs. The bounce in his step had disappeared. “FATHER WILL FIX IT.”

And with that, Grillby was left alone.

He considered his options. He could just wait, maybe already pick a movie for him and Gaster to watch. Or maybe he could offer to make Sans’s snack? He was a cook after all. And if Gaster was there to watch, he could make sure Grillby didn’t accidentally use ingredients Sans was allergic to.

He liked the idea. He’d finally get to show off his own skills to Gaster. Maybe making a sandwich wasn’t as impressive as the blasters, but Gaster was sure to appreciate care for his sons.

Happy with himself, Grillby approached the kitchen door. It was just a crack ajar, he noticed.

“-don’t think the bottle is gonna cut it”, he heard Sans say quietly.

“I see.”

Through the crack, Grillby could see Gaster, the red supplement bottle in hand. Why the supplement bottle? Why wasn’t there any _food_ in sight?

Gaster returned the bottle to the fridge. He sighed quietly.

“Come here.” Gaster pulled up one of the kitchen chairs, and sat down. Sans climbed on his lap, so that he was sitting sideways, legs hanging in the air.

Grillby watched, frozen. What was going on?

Gaster wrapped an arm around Sans’s waist, securely holding him to his chest. With his other hand he reached for Sans’s skull, gently cupping his cheek.

“Ready, precious?”

“mmm”, Sans nodded.

Gaster took a deep breath before he closed his eyes. He leaned down, and tenderly kissed Sans’s temple. The hum of magic sounded through the air, and-

Grillby gasped. Where Gaster’s teeth were pressed against bone, magic was flowing, pouring from his mouth into Sans’s skull. It was like liquid light, glowing a deep crimson.

But what stirred Grillby the most was Sans’s expression. The boy had his eyes closed, utter bliss shining from his calm face. Gaster’s hold on him was firm, his thumb softly caressing his cheek. The sight was deeply intimate.

Grillby reeled. That- that wasn’t _normal_.

He’d seen healing magic, but healing magic was green, it was always green. He’d never even heard of _red_ magic. And even then, magic done with a _kiss_? What the hell was going on? What was Gaster doing to his son?

Gaster finally, _finally_ pulled away. Sans gave a beatific gasp, his eyes fluttering open.

“Better?” Gaster asked affectionately, never ceasing his caresses.

Sans nodded, resting his head against his father’s shoulder. “better.”

After a moment of simply staying like that, Sans slid off of Gaster’s lap.

“are you going to go hunting tonight?”

“Most likely. Although I shouldn’t be long, it’s been long enough since I visited G-”

All too late Grillby realized the two were approaching the door, and he had barely enough time to step back as not the get hit in the face.

“…Grillby.” Gaster looked at him with surprise. “…What were you doing there?”

“I- Sans said he was hungry, I thought I could-” Grillby shook his head. “What were _you_ doing there!?”

“…Whatever do you mean?” Gaster asked, cocking a brow.

“Don’t-” Grillby’s flame gave distressed flickers. “Don’t- You were doing something- something weird- Wh- Why would you lie?”

Grillby stepped back, away from Gaster. “You said you’d make food- but that wasn’t- That wasn’t- What the hell were you _doing_?”

Gaster stared at him. His face was expressionless and unreadable, like a stone statue.

“Huh.” He tilted his head. “I suppose I won’t have to go out hunting tonight after all.”

Something cold and disturbing began to churn in Grillby’s stomach. He stepped back, again, again, until his back was against the wall.

“Gaster?” His voice was small, as he watched the other approach him with slow, steady steps. What was happening? This was Gaster, his dear, sweet, charming Gaster. Why was he so-

Scared?

“Shh, Grillby, shh. Don’t fret. You won’t be confused for long, I promise.” Gaster spoke gently as he reached for Grillby, cupping his cheek with one hand, placing his other one his shoulder.

“Funny…” he muttered to himself. “I’ve never done this in this order before.”

Grillby felt his breath get stuck in his throat. Should he fight back? Try to push Gaster away? _Why did this feel so familiar?_

“Grillby. Look at me”, Gaster commanded, his grip on Grillby’s face firm.

Gaster eye lights, the suddenly weren’t white, they were purple, everything was purple, Grillby was sinking, drowning, a voice ringing in his head.

“ ** _Look at me_**.”

 

Gaster’s leg was hard underneath his cheek. He felt bony fingers running though the flame on his head. It was nice.

Grillby blinked his eyes open.

He was lying on the couch, his head resting on Gaster’s lap. A move was playing on the television, half over by the looks of it.

“Gaster..?”

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

“Wh-?” Grillby searched his mind, trying to make sense of the situation.

“You must have been working hard lately to doze off in the middle of a movie, darling”, Gaster said, idly letting his fingers run along Grillby’s scalp. “I thought it better to let you rest.”

Right. They had been out, the boys had been practicing magic, and once they came home.

Gaster had made Sans a snack. And then they’d decided to watch a movie.

Grillby closed his eyes. His disorientation was just the remains of sleep messing with his head. He’d wake up properly soon enough. And in the meantime, he could enjoy Gaster’s touch.

Maybe he could ask Gaster to make him a snack too. He was hungry. There was a stinging ache at his neck, probably from napping on such a bad position.

…His head hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might have noticed that the first scene is "traced" from Dracula, the scene where the three sexy vampire ladies the count keeps around for some reason try to nibble on Jonathan. This scene is probably the originator of the sexy vampire minion trope.  
> ...Sans and Papyrus would make terrible minions.
> 
> Papyrus's "what do you mean guest, he's here like all the time" line was a reference to real life, in fact I said something pretty close to that when mom told me to offer myself sister's then-boyfriend the egg butter first before taking any myself bc he's ~a guest~. Then I proceeded to treat myself to some egg butter like the sassy gremlin I am.
> 
> The magic training scene was sorta an unplanned bonus, the original outline had just "Sans is hungry and interrupts date night" down. I figured the gang should get out of the house for a bit for variety, and give a reason for Sans's tiredness. Plus a little gaster blaster action fanservice.
> 
> And now, 14 chapters in, we finally know how the kids feeding works! The boys don't actually bite Gaster, rather he sort of reverse-bite mama birds them. The skelevampires can both drink from and pour into, so to speak.
> 
> Also dhampir is technically the word for half-vampire half-human children, but there isn't a fun term for kiddie vampires so. Although it is a decent comparison, since in BoN lore, the kids don't get their special vampire abilities until they're older. Their fangs don't grow in until they're out of their milk teeth, and they aren't capable of hypnosis until their teens. Skeleton children are pretty dependent on their caretakers.


	15. Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a lil bit of world building

He waited until the children were playing outside until he retreated to his room upstairs. He wanted to make sure he’d have enough peace and quiet to concentrate on the task at hand. He settled by his writing desk, and from the drawers he collected the items he needed. A small satin pouch, a jewellery box, and small pliers. He began with the pouch, easing open the strings that kept it closed, and retrieving its contents: a small gemstone.

He regarded the gemstone closely, twirling it between his fingers. It was small, about the size of a pea. See-through, a pale white colour, making the dark mahogany of his desk look a shade lighter than it was. The shape was a simple point cut.

_It’s an octahedron!_ a childish voice in his head provided. He smiled to himself. Funny how important something as trivial as learning the names of different shapes had felt when he was a boy.

So many things had changed. When he’d been a child, there had been plenty of his kind. Cousins and aunts and uncles, even strangers that passed through town. It had been easy, living with humans. Their Souls were bursting with so much Verve a human fed upon hardly even noticed. Not that hunting like that had been necessary for his family. It wasn’t uncommon for his kind to strike a deal with some kindly human, trade for their lifeforce like it was any other good. That was how his parents had lived, how head first learned to feed once his fangs grew in. Awkwardly holding Waterwheel-Bailey by the shoulders as his father instructed him where to bite.

Of course, once the war broke out…

It was understandable, objectively speaking. His kind looked frightening, they were already called undead. And it was easy on the conscious to kill an undead, wasn’t it? Simply righting a wrong, returning to the natural order. Kill the demons!, the humans had shouted. Kill the Soul-eaters! Kill the filthy unholy creatures!

It was hard to survive with monsters. Their Souls simply couldn’t take the strain like humans could. And coming off the heels of war, amidst people angry and frightened and stretched to their limits, his kind were seen as cannibalistic. Rejected, thrown out at the mercy of human solders. There was only one way left to survive.

And thus, adding to the Law of Territory and the Law of Claim, amongst his kind was ruled the Law of Secrecy.

The Law of Territory became tricky to uphold in the Underground. Everyone was showed in one place at first. Only once monsterkind spread though the caverns and New Home was founded could lines be drawn. There weren’t many of them to share the space, and as years turned to decades their numbers only dwindled. It had been well over a century since he had last seen another his kind before he met Candara.

But he couldn’t be sure there weren’t others left, hiding in the rooftops and alleyways of the capital. Someday, one of those strangers just might stroll into Snowdin. And if that happened, he’d be sure to invoke the Law of Claim.

He held the small gem in his hand, fixing his eyes on the unassuming stone. He concentrated. Slowly he began to pour his power into the gem, encasing, saturating it with his magic. It was hard, bitter work, leaving a mild headache and a spell of dizziness once he finished. Again he looked at the little gem, and smiled. The pale, milky white had been replaced by a deep rich purple, _his_ purple.

Now, he reached for the jewellery box, and opened it. His parents had fashioned a nice bracelet for Waterwheel-Bailey, woven cord with two pearls, an orange one from his mother and a dark blue one from his father. It had been both a promise of protection, and a signal to others: this human aids our family, and is not to be touched. A Soul can only so much strain after all, even that of a human. It was best to know which ones were claimed, for everyone’s sake.

For his purposes, he’d decided to go with something a little prettier. From the jewellery box he retrieved an oval locket. It had been pricier, but far easier to come by than a magic-attuned gem. A custom job from a goldsmith in the Capital, simple as that. That he wanted a gem stud but no gem had raised some brows, but he had managed to get his way eventually. Most were willing to trade their demur for a few supplementary gold pieces, and the jeweller had been no different.

The purple stone was easy to slot into the locket, and it fell into the stud with a satisfying click. Next, he took the pliers, and carefully bent the small prongs into place.

Finally, his work was finished. He smiled at the locket, running his fingers along the chain. Grillby would love it, he was sure of that.

Just to be sure, he prodded the gem to confirm it wasn’t loose. He was quite proud of how well it had taken to his magic. To normal monsters, all they would see was a purple stone. But those of his kind had a special kind of seeing, the synaesthesia that allowed them to see the form and shape of speech. If one of his kind were near the locket, they’d see his message. One word, that was all he needed, written in the unique symbols of his voice.

_MINE._

 

~~~~~~~

 

“They’re summoning you back to the Capital?” Grillby asked, raising a brow. He was lounging on Gaster’s couch, arm draped across the back rest, and had just been told that the skeleton family would be out of town for the weekend.

“I thought you were on a sabbatical?”

“No rest for the wicked, I suppose”, Gaster said with a lopsided grin. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. Half the staff is barely competent, and the Core is a magnificent beast of engineering, if I do say so myself. She needs to be tended to with skill and care or she gets fussy.”

“’She’?” Grillby asked, bemused.

Gaster scoffed. “I spent years of my life to create the Core, how could I not think of her as anything else than my baby. And don’t tell me you don’t personify, _say_ , your bar.”

“I do not, in fact, personify a room furnished with booths and a bar table.” Grillby deadpanned. He then considered a moment. “…though I do get where you’re coming from. I’m, uh, _territorial_ when it comes to my kitchen.”

“See?” Gaster gestured as if he’d just proven a point.

“How do Sans and Papyrus feel about their mechanical sibling?” Grillby teased.

“…Papyrus is a little jealous of the attention, I’ll admit”, Gaster said. “But he’s like that with most things. Sans on the other hand is very excited! He takes after me when it comes to scientific interest.”

Gaster beamed proudly.

“Grand. One son to take over the shop, one son to take over the world, and one daughter to endlessly spew energy for monsterkind”, Grillby joked.

Gaster rolled his eyes, smiling.

“I have actually had some thoughts about what it’d be like to raise a daughter”, he said. “I think it’d be nice to have another child, and, you know. I think it’d be lovely to raise a girl.”

“Well, it’s not like you get to pick that beforehand.”

“True, true. But I like the thought of it, that’s all.” Gaster leaned on the back of the couch. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’d like to have children of your own someday?”

“Not really, to be honest.”

Gaster’s brows shot up, and he became very still for a moment.

“I mean, I like kids and all that, it’s great to spend time with the boys”, Grillby scrambled to explain. “Taking care of a person is just A LOT of responsibility, and I do not want to risk messing a kid up.”

He gestured with his hands, searching for the right words. “It’s just. I think that with having children, if it’s not ‘hell yes’, it’s ‘hell no’. I’m fine with being Uncle Grillby, but I don’t want my own kid badly enough.”

Gaster studied his face.

“I see.” He rolled his shoulders. “I suppose I haven’t thought of it like that. I’ve always known I’d want children.”

Grillby was pretty sure that meant his answer was acceptable. He was glad that not wanting kids hadn’t been a deal breaker for Gaster. Maybe because he already had had Sans and Papyrus-

_Maybe_ he was getting a little ahead of himself there. Things were going well, but even in the best possible scenario having children together wouldn’t be topical for a long long time.

“When are you leaving for the capital?” Grillby asked, as a way of switching topics.

“Friday morning. We’ll be back by Sunday evening.”

“Well, bring me a souvenir.”

Gaster smirked. “One step ahead of you.”

He pulled a small box out if his pocked, tied up with a little silk ribbon. Grillby took the box. It looked like a jewellery case.

“You got me a parting gift when you’ll be away for a weekend?” Grillby asked jokingly.

Gaster chuckled.

“I got you a gift because I wanted to give something nice. Go on, open it”, he urged.

Grillby pulled the string of the ribbon, unravelling the bow with one movement. It was a jewellery case, as he’d suspected. The box clicked open with ease. He gasped. Inside, on a bedding of black satin, rested an oval pendant of a silvery metal. On its centre was studded a square-shaped crystal, it’s colour a rich purple. The gem was framed with an intricate pattern, tiny roses intertwined, he realized.

“A silver pendant? Gaster, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s white gold, technically. A little brighter than silver, in my opinion. And don’t worry about it.” Gaster smiled, self-satisfied. “Even if it had been expensive, you’re worth it.”

“I- Still, I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.” Grillby flickered, a little awkward. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Gaster tilted his head, thoughtful.

“You’re not really used to being pampered, are you.”

Grillby flared, hunching in on himself, embarrassed. It was true, yes, but was that such a bad thing?

“Oh darling”, Gaster sighed, bringing a hand to gently brush against Grillby’s cheek. “It’s simply a gift because I wanted to give it to you. Don’t overthink it.” He reached for the box. “May I?”

Grillby nodded, and Gaster took the pendant, the long chain clicking against his fingers. He circled over until he was behind Grillby, who straightened his back. With deft hands Gaster placed the pendant around Grillby’s neck and fastened the clasp. The chain was just the right length, the pendant resting neatly on his chest, just above his Soul. Grillby could feel Gaster’s hands ghosting near his skin, and clever fingers came to adjust the chain and his collar.

Grillby took the pendant in his hand, still admiring how beautiful it was. It was much lighter than he’d thought. Comfortable, too, as the cool metal began to adjust to his warmth.

He turned it around. The back of the pendant was smooth, reflecting his flickering flame. There was a carving there, he noticed.

_To my G_

_Yours, W.D.G_

Grillby furrowed his brow at the letters before he remembered. _Doctor W.D. Gaster, at your service._

“You know, it never really hit me that I’ve been calling you by your last name all this time”, Grillby said, turning to face Gaster who’d settled back on the couch. “What’s W.D. stand for?”

Gaster blinked, and for a moment his usually aloof manner dropped. His mouth pressed into a line, he averted his eyes, his hands all but fidgeted with his sleeves.

“I do actually ask people to call me Gaster by design”, he said, his usual confidence missing from his voice. “It’s silly, if I’m honest, quite silly.”

It felt weird to see Gaster like this. he was always so cool and collected. And suddenly he was acting unsure and embarrassed.

Grillby felt a warm wave of endearment swelling inside him. He reached for Gaster’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“…Promise you won’t laugh?” Gaster asked.

“I promise”, Grillby reassured, squeezing Gaster’s hand.

Gaster took a deep breath and sighed, as if preparing to rip off a band-aid. “Wing Dings.”

“Wing Dings Gaster?” Grillby stared. “That’s- Okay, that’s a little out there, but it’s- It’s not the _worst_ -”

“Oh _please_ do shut up Grillby, there’s no need to mince words. It’s a terrible name and we both know it”, Gaster rolled his eyes.

Grillby smiled apologetically. “Yeah, it’s pretty, uh. Out there.”

“It’s a skeleton thing”, Gaster said. “Sans’s full name is technically Comic Sans Gaster.”

Grillby sparked, baffled. “You named your kid _Comic_?”

“No, I named him Comic Sans”, Gaster said defensively. “It’s _tradition_ to name children after their fonts!”

“Fonts?”

“It’s a skeleton thing”, Gaster repeated. “…And Wing Dings isn’t the worst out there, maybe. It’s just really easy for children to mangle.”

Gaster wrapped his arms around himself, looking somewhere off. “Wing-Dingus, Ding-Dong… Weirdo-Wing Dings was a popular one.”

Grillby didn’t say anything, not yet. He got the feeling that Gaster wasn’t done.

“A scrawny boy with an odd voice and a strange name wasn’t too high on the playground hierarchy, unsurprisingly enough. Let’s just say that I learned to be alone at an early age.” Gaster smiled sadly. “I just happy that Sans and Papyrus have each other to play with. It must be wonderful to be born with a friend.”

The words were said dismissively, but it was easy enough for Grillby to understand the meaning behind them.

“Kids can be really mean”, he said empathetically. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Gaster smiled, a little more genuinely this time. “Thank you. But I’ve made peace with my past a long time ago. And good things did come out of it, eventually. Being by myself got me into reading. Who knows, maybe I would have never pursued science if I’d been invited to play ball more.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, you’re not going to be alone anymore”, Grillby said adamantly. “You’ve got me now, and I’m not going anywhere, not matter what.”

Gaster’s eye sockets went wide. He stared, _stared_ at Grillby, and the seconds ticked by.

Grillby flickered, unsure. “Gaster-?”

Before he could finish, a bony had had gripped him by the chain of his pendant, another settled on his neck, and Gaster’ teeth were pressed on his mouth in a searing kiss.

Surprised, but quickly regaining his bearings, Grillby wrapped his arms around Gaster, pulling him closer as he answered the kiss. Their bodies were quick to get tangled together as they eagerly sought more of each other, to hold each other closer.

The finally parted, gasping for air. Gaster’s black eye sockets and their twinkling lights consumed all of Gaster’s vision.

Gaster wrapped his fingers around the chain of the pendant, pulling Grillby back in.

“You’ll wear it until I return, won’t you?” he asked. His eyes sparkled with purple. “ **Won’t you**?”

“Of course,” Grillby answered, breathlessly. The pendant was a little too flashy for everyday use, but he could wear it under his clothes. Having a little reminder of Gaster with him every day-

His thoughts were interrupted by Gaster kissing him again, intense and passionate.

“Oh, my darling”, Gaster murmured. “My darling.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

Grey floors, grey walls, grey hallways that echoed his steps as he walked forwards. Some monarchs lavished their castes with gold and polished marble, but not the king of monsters. No, Asgore had always wanted his subjects to feel welcome to talk to him. And thusly this side of the caste was simple and grey, with a just small plaque telling him that he was about to step into the throne room.

As he entered, the scent of golden flowers filled him. The splotches of sunlight, casting through the cracks in the stone roof, the faint sound of birds singing outside. And a purple cape draped on his shoulders, his back towards him, kneeling on the ground as he tended to his garden was king Asgore Dreemurr.

“Good evening, sire”, he said and bowed. He could see Asgore startle, almost spilling his watering can.

“Howdy, Gaster. My goodness, you’re so quiet”, Asgore said. He stood up, setting his gardening tools aside and brushing the dirt off his knees.

“I’m sorry, sire. Force of habit.” He flashed an apologetic smile. “I have finished my check-up on the Core. I’ll send my detailed report to the oversight team, but you’ve asked me to keep you informed.”

“Yes, yes”, Asgore said warmly. “Come, we can discuss things more comfortably in the living room. And I have a new tea blend I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

“Thank you, sire, but as I’ve said before, there really is no need-”

“Nonsense. It’ll be my pleasure.”

Gaster didn’t argue further as he followed Asgore out of the throne room.

 

Gaster settled by the dining table as Asgore got the kettle boiling. He could never shake the awkwardness of getting tea served to him by the king. But it brought Asgore joy, so who was he to deny that from him?

“So, is the Core running as it’s supposed to?” Asgore asked as he returned from the kitchen.

“Mostly. I’ve been keeping an eye on the readings, and more cooling methods should be implemented”, Gaster began. “In fact, I’ve sketched up a ventilation system that should help with the overheating issue as well as comply to the traditional puzzle principles. I think the royal science team should be capable of building it.”

“So, you don’t plan on returning to the capital any time soon? I’m sure your work in the laboratories would be valuable.”

Gaster shook his head. “I have been working remotely on some things, but I don’t think we’ll be leaving Snowdin any time soon.”

The kettle whistled, and Asgore got back up to finish the tea. He was quick to return from the kitchen, two cups in hand. One he placed in front of his own seat, careful not to spill the hot water, the other he gave Gaster. Gaster took the cup, holding it on his palm. It was empty, save a few spoonful’s of tea grounds littering the bottom.

“What tea is this?” he asked.

“Why don’t you guess”, Asgore said warmly.

Gaster brought the cup to his face and sniffed the tea grounds. He could see various flower petals and light brown leaves, as well as tiny chunks of dried fruit. But the scent overwhelmingly leaned towards-

“Oranges?”

Asgore nodded, smiling. “Oranges, and as well as many herbs. There’s strawberry, rose hip and blackcurrant, for example.”

“Oranges…” Gaster sniffed the tea. “It smells very nice. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Asgore sipped his own cup. “So, how are you liking Snowdin?”

“Oh, it’s a lovely little town”, Gaster said. “Very quiet and peaceful. I was worried that there wouldn’t be much to do, but the boys really enjoy playing in the snow.”

“And how are Sans and Papyrus?”

“It’s like they grow by the day”, Gaster shook his head, smiling proudly. “Papyrus has been painting a lot recently, mostly skeletons with swooshing capes doing heroic poses. And Sans has been tinkering with some sort of doomsday device. I had to tell him not to explode things inside the house, and to wear safety goggles.”

Asgore chuckled.

The Core forgotten, they chatted casually. About tea, about Asgore’s garden, about the hijinks the boys had gotten themselves into. The little going-on’s of life, light and trifling but comforting.

“Oh, I saw you at the ball”, Asgore said at one point. “You should have told me you were coming; I would have made sure to say hello.”

“I figured you’d have your hands filled with the important guests”, Gaster said dismissively, then brought the cup to his face to smell it again. “Besides, you know me. I’d rather not draw attention.”

“Who was that elemental on your arm?”

Gaster almost dropped his tea cup.

“You saw us?”

“I noticed; shall we say. You seemed to be enjoying yourselves on the dance floor.” Asgore gave a teasing smile. “So, who is he?”

Gaster looked down at his tea grounds.

“A friend”, he said eventually.

“ _Friend_?”

Gaster wished he had an actual cup of tea and a spoon to stir it with. That would at least give him something to do with his hands.

“It’s complicated. I-” Gaster gestured towards his mouth. “You know.”

“I see.” Asgore paused. Then, he said with warm encouragement in his voice: “I’m glad that you found someone. A friend, or whatever he might be to you.”

Gaster smiled, thankful.

Then he noticed how late it was getting, and his smile dropped. He’d always hated this part.

“Sire”, he began. “The Core is not the only reason I came to visit in person.”

“…I see.” Asgore said, his expression falling solemn. “Very well then.”

He stood up from the table. “Shall we?”

A sober silence hand in the air as they returned to the throne room. They walked past the flowers, through the door in the back.

“How is your substitute research going?” Asgore asked quietly.

“The formula is still just a supplement, I’m afraid”, Gaster answered. “While the human Souls a full of determination, they’re still essentially dead. Verve needs to be live to be nourishing.”

Gaster thought as they walked through the dark corridor. “I think I could lean on the supplement more, but there could be health consequences. I’d rather not risk it, not while the boys are still so young.”

Asgore nodded in acknowledgement.

They finally arrived at the barrier, the evening glow shining though the magical seal. At Asgore’s command, seven cylindrical glass containers rose from the ground, a shining human Soul floating in all but one.

“It’s the turn of the green one”, Gaster said. Asgore took the container, and holding it tenderly in his large furry hands, he turned to give to Gaster.

“Please, be careful with it”, he said, as he always said.

“I will”, Gaster assured, as he always did in return.

They left the barrier, Gaster cradling the Soul container in his arms.

“I’ll return this by morning-”, he said as they came to the throne room.

“Gaster?” Asgore interrupted. He was fidgeting with the collar of his cape. “Are you… hungry?”

Gaster looked at Asgore, who was looking nervous and unsure.

“I simply don’t wish to keep you away from your children longer than needed. And hunting takes time, does it not? So, if you need to, I could-”

“Sire.”

Gaster was tempted, for a moment. The Soul off a Boss Monster was the strongest one could find in the underground. And Asgore was, all things considered, his friend. It’d be easy to feed off of him, so filling, so satisfying…

“Your strength belongs to your kingdom, your highness. You need to care for your subjects.”

Asgore placed his paw on Gaster’s shoulder. He could feel its warmth though his lab coat, almost feel the soft fur.

“You are one of my subjects too”, Asgore said.

Still, Gaster shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I fed recently”, he lied.

“Very well, then.” Asgore withdrew his touch from him. “Good night, Gaster.”

“Good night, Asgore”, he answered quietly.

 

He left the king in his throne room, walking quickly through the hallways, the Soul container in his arms. He entered a door, and suddenly the monotonous grey was broken by a golden light filtered through stain glass windows, tiles and tall columns.

The final corridor. Judgement Hall.

The hall where he’s stumbled into all those years ago, shaking and blubbering, with nothing but two squalling babies and a suit case, trying to explain to Asgore how the only life he’d ever know had been dashed to pieces.

Asgore hadn’t judged him, not advised him, not said a word. He’s simply wrapped his arms around Gaster, held him in his warm soft comfort, and allowed him to collapse into the mess of sorrow and anger and pain he was.

He knew he shouldn’t have sought help from the king of monsters, he had already so much on his shoulders. But Gaster had nowhere else to go. Asgore was the only one he could talk to, the only one who knew the truth.

The only one who knew what he truly was, and forgave him for it.

Asgore had let them stay a while. He’d given one of the guest rooms for them to use. He’d looked after the boys when Gaster simply couldn’t. And patently he’d let Gaster have his breakdown.

Gaster had just numbly stared at walls, not talked, not moved. Then he’d raged and screamed his voice hoarse, thrown pillows on the floor and against the walls. He’d drawn up plans for a time machine to undo it all. And then he’d cried, he’d wept and sobbed and wailed until there were no more tears left to shed inside him.

And once Gaster finally, finally had vomited out all of the fowl emotions, had gathered his pieces into something resembling a functional person, when Gaster told him that he _needed_ to leave New Home, Asgore had helped him find a little house in Waterfall.

And that was how his new life with its new lies began. Dr. W.D. Gaster, a scientist from the capital, taking a sabbatical to spend time with his children. Someone harmless and reclusive and forgettable, a father to his sons and nothing more.

Gaster walked briskly though the hallways, to the elevator that would take him to his laboratory. If he performed the DT extraction quickly, they could perhaps manage to catch the earlier ferry. He smiled. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had someone at home to return to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the big logistics questions of this fic was whether or not Asgore, as king, would be aware of the vampires admits monsters. I figured that in the end yes, if he was around before the war, back when vampires were a little more open about existing, he'd know. And that he wouldn't demand their extermination once underground. They are, after all, his subjects too. The Law of Secrecy demands that vampires cannot make a noticeable impact on their surroundings, so, say, murderous sprees are effectively curved. It's not a prefect system, but it's the lesser of two evils. Asgore would like for Gaster to figure out how to make that substitute tho.
> 
> Also Waterwheel-Bailey is not an important character, no need to remember them. I wouldn't have named them, but they were a close enough person in Gaster's life that it'd been weird to call them a variant of 'that human', and it's not like Gaster's parent's where his internal monologue can just call them mom and dad.


	16. Poppy Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lovely times are had~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE!  
> This chapter has the special aspect of containing a sex scene. It's pretty vague, none of the body parts involved are described, nor what they do exactly, buuuut I feel like it did end up racy enough that you deserve to have a forwarning. If that is not your type of content or you're feeling particularly prudish today, I marked the beginning of the scene with a ♥ it goes on until the ~~~ of POV shift appear. Also its formatted notably differently.
> 
> And yeah it's Thursday but the update schedule has been a mess lately so whatever

Grillby hummed to himself as he swept the floors. Maybe he should actually do something about getting the jukebox fixed. It might be nice to have some tunes to clean to. That sort of machinery was just so expensive, needing custom parts that were hard to come by Underground.

Perhaps he could ask Gaster for help, once he was back from the capital. If he was handy enough to create a powerplant, repairing a jukebox would be simple tinkering.

Count the register, clean the kitchen. Business was picking up. The worst of the sickness seemed to have abided, and people were more comfortable leaving their homes. And with Grillby now knowing that his health problems were just a magic blockage, he could actually keep the bar open without worrying about infecting others.

Lastly, haul out the garbage. The trash bag landed into the large outside bin with a loud crash.

Grillby rolled his shoulders, throwing his head back and letting out a long sigh. Time to finally call it a day and head to bed. Maybe he could read a bit before he went to sleep. He’d picked up a collection of old fairy tales recently, and the last time his reading had been interrupted, the heroic knight had just woken up in an unfamiliar hut after being mauled by the beast he’d been sent to slay. Grillby was excited to finally find out who the mysterious stranger living in the forest was-

Just by the edge of his hearing, there was a sound of a twig breaking. Grillby snapped into attention. He turned his head, looking into the dark trees.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

Silence was his only answer.

Grillby squinted, searching the shadowy forest with his eyes. Then, slowly, be began to return to the open door of his bar, his home.

He felt silly, jumping at nothing like that. Why would anyone be sneaking around in the thicket, the street was right over there? Surely the noise had just been some branch giving away under the weight of snow-

Suddenly there was a grip on his shoulders, somebody behind him, a voice purring into his ear: “All by you lonesome, beautiful?”

Grillby shrieked, jabbing an elbow at his assailant, his flame flaring hot and bright as he tore himself away from the grasp. He spun, hands raised, fire balling at his palm ready to fight off whoever had-

“Grillby, hey, hey! Calm down”, Gaster said, stepping away, hands raised placatingly. “It’s just me.”

“Gaster?” Grillby dispelled his fire attack in his hand. “Gaster, what the _hell_? You scared the crap out of me!”

“I’m sorry”, the other said, grinning apologetically. “Your back was turned, and I just couldn’t resist trying to spook you. It was supposed to be a mere lark, that’s all.”

“Sheesh, Gaster, don’t _do_ that”, Grillby said, shaking his head. “I almost blasted your face off!”

“I’m sorry”, Gaster said again.

His racing Soul calming down, Grillby realized something else.

“I thought you were still in Capital?”

Gaster’s grin shifted into a self-satisfied smirk.

“ _Well_ , as it  _happens_ , I am very very clever and very very diligent”, he said, waltzing over to him and wrapping his arms around Grillby’s neck. “I finished up quick, and we managed to catch the earlier ferry. And since the boys went to bed early -all tuckered out from the trip, poor things- I thought I’d drop by.”

“Lucky me, to date someone so smart, industrious, and most of all, _humble_ ”, Grillby teased, resting his hands on Gaster’s hips. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss on Gaster’s teeth. Then he said more seriously: “I’m happy to see you back already.”

“I’m happy to be back”, Gaster said, leaning his forehead against Grillby’s.

“How was your trip?”

“How about you come over tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about it?” Gaster grinned. “A telling of my riveting adventures of writing reports?”

Grillby chuckled. “It’s a date!”

 

 

Grillby spent the next day in a cheerful mood. It hadn’t been a long while Gaster had been gone, admittedly, but usually they at least texted on the days they didn’t see each other. Gaster had been too busy for that while in the Capital.

When evening came, he headed through the familiar path to the skeleton residence. Gaster, true to his word, gave Grillby a recount of their trip: check-up on the Core, how people were making a mess of the laboratory, meeting the king, a little shopping trip with the boys as the Capital stores were much better stocked than the one in Snowdin. Gaster’s tale was only paused briefly, as he noticed it was time to put the kids to bed. Papyrus was a little old for a bedtime story, in Grillby’s opinion, but he wasn’t about to question Gaster’s parenting when he himself knew squat about raising children.

 

“So, as you can see, the whole ordeal was positively dull”, Gaster said as he’d finished his recount. He was lounging on the couch, arm draped over the backrest.

“I don’t know. Teatime with the King sounds exciting”, Grillby remarked.

“Asgore is not particularly intimidating once you get to know him. He’s a big fuzzy softie who just wants to tend to his garden.”, Gaster said dryly. Then, his voice becoming quiet, he said: “Asgore is a good man. I wish he didn’t have to bear the weight of the kingdom alone.”

Gaster looked somewhere into the distance, thoughtful.

“I do sometimes think about moving back to the Capital. He never directly asks me to, he’s too nice for that, but I know Asgore wants me there.” He paused. “I wish I could help him more.”

Grillby hesitated.

“Do you think you’ll return there soon? For good, I mean”, he asked quietly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“No.” Gaster shook his head, and Grillby breathed in relief.

“Those streets carry bad memories”, Gaster said bleakly. Then he turned to look at Grillby, and smiled. “And you are here.”

Grillby was tempted to ask what Gaster meant by bad memories, but seeing the other so happy, so relaxed, he decided against it. Why sour a good mood by prying?

On a whim, Grillby reached for Gaster’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss on Gaster’s teeth.

He could feel Gaster cupping his cheek as the other answered the kiss, deepening it. It never ceased to amaze Grillby how skillful Gaster was with his mere teeth, how wonderfully firm they felt against him, how they softly nipped at his lips. How Gaster’s hands wandered to his neck, the featherlight touch of his fingertips finding a hold to pull him closer.

There was a quiet clinking sound as bone met metal, and Grillby could feel something moving under his shirt. They parted, and Gaster pulled the pendant Grillby had had under his clothes out by its chain.

“You’ve kept wearing it”, Gaster said, to Grillby as much as to himself.

“Of course,” Grillby said. “It was a gift from you.”

The pendant slowly rotated in place as Gaster held it up. He slowly let it down, gingerly placing it on Grillby’s chest.

Gaster tilted his head, looking at Grillby, deep in thought. Then, a warm smile blossomed on his face. His hands sneaked their way around Grillby’s neck.

“I… I cherish the time spent with you. You make me so happy.” Gaster made his way closer, nearly climbing on Grillby’s lap. He nuzzled Grillby’s cheek, the gesture strangely sweet. “You’re so beautiful, so wonderful. The way you smile and laugh, the way your flame flickers and sparks when you’re flustered. How your mouth presses into a line when you concentrate, how your eyes glow like molten gold. I simply adore you, my darling.”

“Gaster…” Grillby didn’t know what to say. How could he ever explain the happy, giddy emotions churning inside him, how his Soul beat in his chest, what a rush of fondness and yearning Gaster’s words set free?

Desperate to convey even a fraction of what Gaster made him feel, Grillby embraced Gaster, pulling them flush against each other, and pressing his lips against Gaster’s mouth in a soft kiss that quickly grew heated. Grillby peppered kisses on Gaster’s face, again and again. His teeth, the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, his teeth once more. He cupped Gaster’s behind with one hand, sneaking the other along part of Gaster’s spine that had been exposed from underneath his sweater as the cloth rode upwards. In return, he could feel Gaster’s hands roaming along his chest, his stomach and sides, his upper thigh. Grillby let his kisses trail downwards, along Gaster’s jaw, to his neck. Vertebrae, wasn’t that what they were called? He let his lips, his tongue explore, feeling around the shape and texture of the bones. This elicited soft gasps and moans from Gaster, emboldening Grillby. He let himself get playfully rough, grasping for Gaster harder, nipping and tenderly biting into Gaster’s neck-

A flash of movement, a shove, and a brief moment of disorientation. Grillby found himself on his back on the couch, pinned by Gaster. Skeleton hands pressing him down by his shoulders; a thigh between his legs, tantalisingly near his crotch; and Gaster himself, hovering over him, an almost predatory glint in his eyes that made Grillby shiver.

For a moment, the both simply panted, breathless from their passionate exchange. Both of them taking in what had just happened. Until Gaster broke the silence between them.

“I want you.”

His voice was half growl, half plea. “I want-”

“Yes”, Grillby gasped.

“Yes?”

“ _By the stars, yes._ ”

Gaster’s expression shifted from dazed to beguiling, and unlike ever before in his life, Grillby _desired_.

Gaster extracted himself from atop of Grillby in slow, almost calculated movements, and Grillby pushed himself up from the couch. A tempting smile on his face, Gaster took Grillby by the hand, and led him upstairs to the bedroom.

 

♥

 

_The dark room, illuminated only by his own flickering flame. The lights of Gaster’s eye sockets, eager and excited, twinkling like stars._

_Clever fingers, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing the fabric aside._

_The cool night air on his skin._

_Eyes roaming over his body, meticulous and unhurried, so intense he could nearly feel the ghost of a touch. Gaster’s voice but a whisper. “Beautiful.”_

_Feeling of heat rising to his cheeks, some remnant of shyness still lingering. Flustered sparks that died as fast as they ignited._

_Skeletal hands, hard and cool, thin and elegant. Their touch featherlight, then firm and resolute, leading him to the bed._

_Grey knit sweater, coarse to the touch. Right now, he hated it, despised it for what it hid from him. Banished out of sight. White bones, stark against the shadows of the room._

_Pearly teeth. Smiling, grinning, smirking, cocky and victorious. Pearly teeth eagerly pressed against his lips._

_Soft kisses, sweet kisses. Demanding, searing, yearning kisses._

_Hands and mouth, roaming over his body. Exploring and teasing, finding each and every way to make him gasp._

_Gaster’s eyes. Wanton, greedy. Grillby felt like a prey animal, and he liked it._

_Finding the nooks and crannies of Gaster’s bones, feeling their unevenness, their texture, their shape. The little noises Gaster made that made him ache and burn for more._

_Hard grip on his wrists, pushed down on his back. The weight on his hips as he was straddled, the hungry look on the skull that hovered above him. His mouth captured into a ravishing kiss._

_The pillows and sheets smelled like bones. Smelled like Gaster._

_Clever fingers, boldly touching his body. Playing him like an instrument of gasps and whimpers and moans._

_“I simply adore how your skin feels.” Gaster’s voice a husky purr. “How hot you burn, how your little wisps of flame lick my fingers.”_

_Thin fingers, sunken into the fire on top of his head. His mouth claimed once again. Answering the kiss, desperately. Stars, he wanted more. Needed_ more _._

_The heat building, coursing through his veins. Pushed further and further, spurred on with every scratch and caress, by every pleased groan he managed to wring out of Gaster._

_Pleasure. The most intimate of his body finally touched._

_Himself, at his barest, at his fullest, his body, taken, claimed, and he loved it._

_“_ Mine _.” The voice a growl. “You’re mine. Only mine.”_

_“Yours. All yours”, he gasped._

_Pleased moans and purrs, Gaster’s eyes glazing over, becoming hazy with their shared delectation as they rocked into each other, as close as two bodies could be._

_The ever-tightening coil inside of him as they chased the peak of their ecstasy._

_“Say my name.” A command, right next to his ear as his head rolled back. “I want to hear you say it.”_

_“Gaster, Gaster-” he repeated, like a reverent prayer, as he was pushed ever closer to the edge. “Gaster, Gaster,_ Gaster-! _”_

_He screamed as the white-hot rapture raked through his body, as Gaster buried his face to the crook of his neck and groaned in pleasure, gripping onto each other for dear life as they rode through the wave of bliss together._

 

~~~~~~~

 

Grillby’s fire crackled quietly as he slept. The room was dim, as most of the flaming body next to him was covered under the blanket, the light hidden by the sheets. Gaster was pleasantly warm. Grillby had been quick to snuggle close to him, and had fallen asleep in his arms. Not that Gaster minded, not at all. He liked the warmth. It was a rare treat, to feel his bones so thoroughly seeped in heat. And while one of his arms was trapped under the crook of Grillby’s neck, his other hand was free to idly toy with the flickering flame atop of Grillby’s head.

He felt… He wasn’t quite sure what the word should be. Satisfied? Content?

Happy?

Maybe… Maybe happy was, if not the right word, the best word.

And it wasn’t just the afterglow. He had enjoyed himself, of course, immensely, but that wasn’t it.

There was a thrill to it, to see Grillby slumbering in his arms. To see that Grillby trusted him so, that he’d succumb to his most vulnerable state in his presence…

Knowingly.

_Willingly_.

But no. That wasn’t it either.

So, Gaster mused to himself, absentmindedly petting Grillby’s head, feeling the rise and fall of Grillby’s chest against his ribcage, warming his face in Grillby’s glow, breathing in the scent of wood smoke and salt.

He felt… yes. Happy. Maybe happy was the right word after all.

The thought of feeding crossed his mind. He was quick to shake it off. It’d be easy by now, of course. Grillby’s Soul could barely resist before he forced what he needed out of it.

But it’d defile the moment. The quick rush of feeding was not worth the price of betraying the trust Grillby had given him as he fell asleep in his arms, to see Grillby’s beautiful, peaceful face twisted in pain-

…

As if feeding off of Grillby when he wasn’t sleeping in Gaster’s arms was any less of a betrayal.

No, he wouldn’t.

Couldn’t.

He should have known. Gaster had always been foolish like that. Getting attached.

From the very start he’s thought Grillby endearing. The handsome features and calm, gentlemanly manners might have caught his eye at first, but the more he got to know Grillby for who he was, the greater his affection grew.

Perhaps…

For a moment, Gaster closed his eyes, and allowed himself the chance to dream.

What would it be like if Grillby Knew?

How would Gaster reveal his secret? Show Grillby his fangs? Explain what he truly was, that he’d always been that way, that that was simply how his kind were born?

He imagined Grillby understanding. It might take some time, days, weeks, even. Gaster imagined Grillby showing up at his doorstep, nervous, maybe, a little worried, perhaps. But hopeful.

‘You had no choice’, he imagined Grillby’s voice saying. ‘I forgive you.’

They’d embrace, they’d kiss. It wouldn’t be easy, probably, but they’d work things out. He imagined coming home and Grillby asking how his hunt went. He imagined Grillby letting Sans and Papyrus practice biting on him. He imagined finally creating a substitute, none of them having to feed off of monster anymore. He imagined staying in Snowdin, buying a house big enough for all four of them, living together as a big happy family.

No more tricks.

No more lies.

Grillby would know him, the real him, and love him despite of what he was.

And they’d live happily ever after.

Gaster’s eyes sockets flew open. The light of Grillby’s flame hit his sight, bright enough to make Gaster blink to get his eyes to adjust.

He felt a single tear droplet rolling down his cheekbone.

What a foolish, _foolish_ fantasy.

Gaster swallowed, as if that would make the lump in his throat go away. He forced himself to breath evenly, as if that would dissolve the cold ache inside his chest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, pulled Grillby close, buried his face into the gently flickering flame.

As if Grillby could ever accept him for what he was.

Candara was right, she’d always been right. He knew exactly what would happen if Grillby found out. No matter how many times Candara had tried to warn him, he’d made the same mistake, over and over, revealing what he was to people he’d thought of as friends. He didn’t want to go through it all again. He didn’t want to see Grillby’s face twisted in fear, in disgust, in hate. He didn’t want to hear the shouts and accusations, not in Grillby’s voice. He didn’t-

He didn’t want to _lose_ Grillby.

Maybe what they had now was all fake. Maybe it was all a charade. Maybe all Gaster did was lie and cheat and puppeteer. But even if it was just his mask Grillby had fallen in love with…

Just for the briefest little moments, he could fool himself into believing that those adoring looks were meant for him, the real him.

And that would have to be enough.

There was something calming about feeling Grillby sleep in his arms, helping ease the icy feeling away. Gaster timed his breathing to the shallow rise and fall of Grillby’s chest. He concentrated on the warmth of the body next to him.

He wouldn’t feed off of Grillby anymore, he promised himself. He might be forced to keep deceiving Grillby, but at least he could give up the guilt of outright betrayal.

After all, Snowdin was full of other monsters, beating Souls filled with life. He’d simply have to change his hunting strategy into something a little more aggressive.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Everything smelled off, that was the first thing Grillby realized as be began to wake up. It took a moment to parse how the pillow was slightly denser, the cover a little heavier, and that the smell was the smell of bones.

Oh. Right.

Grillby smiled to himself as he remembered why exactly he wasn’t in his own bed. He opened his eyes, careful not to stir, he didn’t want to wake Gaster up-

 The bed next to him was empty.

Grillby’s heart sank.

He padded the flat blanket, the pillow next to his own. As if Gaster was hiding under the covers. He pushed himself up from the bed, looking around the room. No sigh of Gaster, not even the clothes Grillby remembered discarding on the floor. His own clothes however had been gathered and folded into a neat pile, left on a chair.

Shame stinging his cheeks, Grillby redressed into his clothes from yesterday. They were grungy and wrinkled, making him feel gross.

Had Gaster really just ditched him without a word? No note, nothing? Did Grillby really mean so little to him that Gaster would abandon him the morning after they made love?

Trying to keep quiet, Grillby left the room, tiptoeing down the stairs. Not entirely sure from whom he was trying to hide from, but it felt appropriate-

“morning, grillby.”

He missed the last step of the stairs, stumbling hard onto the floor. Thank goodness he didn’t out right fall over.

Sans and Papyrus were camped in front of the TV, wearing pyjamas, seated on throw pillows stolen from the couch, a blanket draped over their shoulders. Sans had his triceratops plush on his lap for some reason.

“Uh, good morning”, Grillby said, suddenly much more aware than he’d been the night before that there were kids in the house. He really hoped that they hadn’t heard anything inappropriate.

“GOOD MORNING”, Papyrus said, looking at Grillby in a way that made him feel judged. “YOU STAYED THE NIGHT.”

“…Yes?” Grillby was trying to carefully estimate just how much he could say. The boys were probably old enough to be aware of sex as an abstract concept, but he was very sure that they didn’t need to know what him and their father had been up to.

“FATHER SAID THAT YOU HAD AN ‘ADULT SLUMBER PARTY’.”

“Well, more of a _sleepover_ ”, Grillby scrambled to say. “In that we mostly just, uh, slept.”

Papyrus eyed him suspiciously.

“Is Gaster around?” Grillby blurted out. He needed to escape this before things got any more awkward.

Sans wordlessly pointed a thumb towards the kitchen.

“Thanks.”

Grillby made his way over to the kitchen door. As he got closer, he noticed the sound of muffled singing coming from the other side.

“ _Wenn Liebe in dir ist,_

_dann klingt aus dir Musik_

_Wenn dein Moment hier ist,_

_dann spricht für dich dein Blick_ ”

He carefully opened the door. He saw Gaster, facing the stove, his back towards him. Next to him on the counter was a large bowl with some batter dripping on its side, a plate, and in his hands were a sizzling frying pan and a spatula. Grillby recognized the smell of pancakes.

Gaster swung his head to the song.

“ _Und der Mensch den du magst,_

_versteht was du sagst-_ ,”

He lifted the frying pan, and flipped the pancake.

“ _-und wärst du auch still_

_dein Herz widmet_

_dass Liebe in dir ist_

_die nicht mehr schweigen will_.”

As he moved, Gaster noticed Grillby standing in the doorway, and smiled. He placed the frying pan away, strode to him, and placed his hands on Grillby’s hips.

“Manchmal sagt ein Kuss mehr als tausend Worte”, he said, and gave Grillby a quick kiss. “Good morning, darling!”

“Morning”, Grillby said. “You’re in a merry mood today.”

“Oh, I feel like I have every reason to be.” Gaster winked, and returned to the stove, humming.

“My morning wasn’t particularly cheerful”, Grillby said, gripping his arm. “I was a little upset to wake up alone, to be honest.”

Gaster’s humming stopped. “Oh.”

Gaster turned to look at Grillby, looking apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Grillby. I was going to wait for you, maybe cuddle, you know, but the kids woke up early and needed to be fed.” Gaster flopped the pancake onto a plate, and offered it to Grillby. “So I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast!”

“O-Oh”, Grillby uttered as he took the plate. He suddenly felt silly about his insecurities upon waking up alone. Of course Gaster hadn’t just abandoned him. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure”, Gaster said a he poured a hearty batch of batter onto the frying pan.

Grillby noticed that there wasn’t another plate in sight. “Aren’t you going to have any yourself?”

“I already ate with the boys.”

“Oh, alright.” Grillby would have liked to maybe eat breakfast with Gaster, but

 couldn’t be helped now, could it.

Grillby eyed the stove, and frowned. Gaster’s technique was way off! The pancake batter was laid on much too thick, the stovetop was set to a heat much too low, had Gaster even greased the pan before he poured in the next batch-?

Grillby cringed internally, but kept his mouth shut. Critiquing peoples cooking when they were trying to make you something nice would be awfully rude. But he could not just stay here to watch this travesty either.

“Since you’re busy with that, how about I go keep the kids company?” Grillby suggested.

Gaster lit up at the idea, smiling widely. “An excellent idea! I’d be delighted if you and the boys bonded a little more.”

Gaster patted the half-raw pancake with the spatula, and Grillby fled, plate in hand, before he said something impolite.

“Hello again”, Grillby greeted as he settled on the couch.

“HELLO”, Papyrus said dispassionately, Sans made a non-committal noise.

“So, uh.” Grillby wasn’t sure what to say. _What kind of small talk were you supposed to do with kids the morning after fucking their dad??_ He glanced at the television screen. It was playing some children’s program, where hand puppets were teaching each other to say please and thank you.

“What are we watching?”

Papyrus gave him half a glare, offended. “WE’RE NOT REALLY WATCHING THIS. IT’S FOR BABY BONES!”

“Oh.”

“i like it”, Sans said. “the songs are fun.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO STANDARDS!”

“Who’s your favourite character?” Grillby asked, to keep the conversation going.

“the purple one, the one doing the numbers”, Sans said, pointing to a puppet that was currently counting up to ten. “he has a cool voice.”

“WE’RE JUST WAITING UNTIL MY PROGRAM STARTS”, Papyrus said, to defend his honour after watching a toddler show, Grillby guessed.

“What program?”

“MY LITTLE BONEY”, he declared proudly.

“i like the purple one in that too”, Sans said offhand. “she’s bookish.”

“OF COURSE YOU’D LIKE THE MAIN CHARACTER THE BEST! IT TAKES A FAN OF THE SHOW TO CONSIDER ALL THE ASPECTS THAT MAKE FOR A GOOD CHARACTER!”

Papyrus launched into a thorough lecture on the characteristics, deeds, vices and virtues that qualified for ‘the best boney’. Grillby lost track of the argument very quickly, but then again that was something he could forgive himself for. Instead, he finally dug into his pancake. It may have not been made with skill, but with all the more caring.

Sometime later, Gaster emerged from the kitchen, a full stack of pancakes in hand. Grillby ate. Cartoons about boneys and space rangers and magical girls played on the television, the boys glued in front of the screen. Grillby put his plate away, and Gaster casually wrapped his arm around Grillby’s shoulder. Grillby leaned into the touch.

Cuddled together with Gaster on the couch, idly watching cartoons, the kids on the floor giggling at jokes and gasping at plot twists. Casual and domestic and soft.

Grillby was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned the vampire counting thing before? I feel like I have mentioned the vampire counting thing before. Anyway, I threw in Count von Count for a laugh :P
> 
> 'Wenn Liebe in dir ist' is a song from TdV, of course. I thought it'd be fun to have Gaster sing in german.
> 
> Something I was definitely on the fence about was Gaster's cooking skills. My Vanilla!Gaster is a comedically terrible cook, but capable of feeding himself and the kids. Vampire boyfriends in fiction are often superb chefs because they have to be perfect in most ways, but then again, how would someone who never eats have a concept of tasty food? Finally this Gaster ended up being able to cook well enough, but he certainly has no idea what he's doing aside from following the recipe.
> 
> My Little Boney was a thing from the first drafts of Papyrus, it's mentioned in the art book if you haven't come across that. Maybe the UT Papyrus we ended up with no longer is a broney, but I liked the idea that he watched the show as a kid :D


	17. Not visible in photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby babysits

Who knew that just when things were looking up, they could go bad so quickly? That after weeks and weeks of the influenzas being an almost forgotten nuisance, the sickness would return, worse than ever? The Snowdin health centre was filled to the brim, the paper warned people to avoid touching their faces and cough in their sleeves, the shop and inn and Grillby himself had but up little bottles of hand sanitiser to curve the spread.

Grillby himself was, ironically enough, feeling great. His magic blockage had finally stopped bothering him, the marks on his neck had faded long ago. But, in a weird way, he felt a little guilty about his own health when practically everyone else was sick.

His bar was almost empty, his only customers a mouse monster with his kid. Grillby could easily overhear as the little mouse talked about some adventure they’d gotten into with their friend.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Gaster.

_\- Can I ask you a favour?_

_\- Sure? What’s up_

_\- I need to bring Sans to the health centre for a check-up, and by the looks of it, it could easily take five hours. Do you think you could babysit Papyrus? I don’t want to bring him along to just be bored, let alone catch some hospital virus._

Grillby considered. Five hours with Papyrus wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun evening, but it would help Gaster out…

From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the little mouse monster had walked to the jukebox, their green-striped scarf trailing behind them. They seemed to be trying to get a glimpse of the song selection.

“It’s broken”, Grillby told them.

The mouse jumped a little at suddenly being addressed. “Oh”, they said, disappointed.

“Aww, too bad”, comforted the dad. “But since you have your coin left over, how about we buy you a milkshake?”

“Really?”

“Just don’t tell your mama you got an extra treat”, the dad said with a wink.

The kid nodded vigorously, making their way to the bar counter, and on their tippy toes they placed the coin on the counter. “Strawberry, please.”

Grillby prepared the drink quickly, and returned to his phone. He got an idea.

_\- I’ll babysit, but can I get a return favour?_

_\- What kind of favour?_

_\- My jukebox has been broken for ages. Do you think you could take a look at it, if you could maybe fix it?_

_\- It would be my pleasure, Grillby. You’ve got yourself a deal._

 

A few days later, Grillby found himself in the hallway of the skeleton household, shooing Gaster off before him and Sans missed their appointment.

“We ate just before you arrived, so he shouldn’t get hungry. And don’t give him the supplement, even if he asks, they already had their dozes for the day. And-”

“Gaster, we’ll be _fine_ ”, Grillby assured. “Papyrus is not a baby bones, and neither am I for that matter. Just go.”

“Text me if you need anything!” Gaster called out as him and Sans left.

The door clicked shut, and with that Grillby was alone with Papyrus.

Papyrus, who was eyeing him with mild disdain.

“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHY FATHER THOUGHT THAT THIS WOULD BE NECESSARY. HE KNOWS I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF JUST FINE!”

“Hey, I’m sure he does, and trusts you. I’m here just to keep you company”, Grillby said. He was pretty sure Papyrus was the type of boy who liked to feel independent. And wasn’t it good to encourage kids to be self-reliant?

“YOU’RE HERE BECAUSE HE THINKS I MIGHT BURN THE HOUSE DOWN”, Papyrus muttered. Somebody was in a bristly mood!

“Well, better safe than sorry”, Grillby said. “So, what would you like to do? Play a board game? Or cards? Sans likes poker-”

“I WANT TO GO TO MY ROOM AND RE-ARRANGE MY ACTION FIGURES.” With that, Papyrus turned on his heel, and marched towards the kids room, leaving Grillby where he stood.

Well. That could have gone better.

So much for bonding time, Grillby thought with a sigh. He had hoped that spending time one-on-one with him might get Papyrus to warm up to him a little. Papyrus acted civil around him, but Grillby did still get the impression that the boy wasn’t particularly keen to have him around. At least Sans seemed to find him okay…

Now what was he supposed to do? Papyrus was caring for himself, and unless large amounts of smoke suddenly began to seep under the door, it wasn’t like Grillby really needed to be doing anything particular. He glanced around, and his eyes fell on the bookshelf. Maybe he could kill time by reading something?

He began to browse through the books. Most of it was science stuff way beyond his comprehension, and none of what he could hope to be able to even understand really piqued his interest.

His eyes fell on large, unmarked volumes on the lowest shelf. He pulled one out. Oh, it was a photo album.

He opened it at random, and was greeted with Sans and Papyrus, age five if he had to guess. It was a cute picture of the two boys at a sandbox, making a track for little toy race cars. ‘ _Time for Formula 1!_ ’ read the description in the carefully drawn symbols of Gaster’s handwriting, along with a date.

Grillby smiled. He settled on the floor, and began to leaf through the photo album, working his way from the back to front.

Pictures from a trip to Waterfall. Papyrus looking at an echo flower with the astonishment of a small child, Sans pointing at the ceiling starts with an excited grin. Papyrus stomping in puddles, umbrella in hand. Sans, asleep on a bench.

Pictures from Hotland. Sans intently observing the flowing lava. Papyrus, nauseous after riding the conveyor belts. Snack time at the Core, according to the description.

Pictures from the castle. Sans and Papyrus playing in the king’s garden. Papyrus and Asgore. Sans napping in the big reading chair.

Gyftmases, birthdays, holidays and excursions. With every page Sans and Papyrus turned younger and younger, shrinking from little children to toddlers to infants.

Grillby stopped at a photo, something about it strange, but he couldn’t tell what. It was your standard baby picture, Gaster lying on his back on a red loveseat, smiling fondly at a teeny-tiny Sans propped on his chest.

Then it hit him.

This was the first picture he’d seen that featured _Gaster_ in it.

He hadn’t thought much of it, he’d figured that Gaster had been behind the camera when the other photos were taken. But that raised the question: who had taken this one?

As he leafed through the baby pictures, more and more of them had Gaster in them. Gaster and Papyrus building towers out of blocks. Gaster nuzzling Sans. Gaster reading a bedtime story, Gaster cooing at a crib, Gaster playing, Gaster laughing, Gaster happy and relaxed and full of love. Gaster unlike Grillby had ever seen.

Grillby paused. His eyes were fixed and Gaster’s wide grin as he bounced Papyrus on his knee. He’d seen Gaster smile, seen him laugh, but never as fully as the Gaster in the pictures. Never as genuinely happy.

Did… did Grillby not make Gaster happy? Was he doing something wrong? Or was it just Gaster, mellowing as his children grew, becoming calmer and more reserved?

Maybe that was it, Grillby comforted himself. Gaster was happy in the pictures because he was a new father, not because he’d been with someone who made him happier than Grillby could-

Grillby’s flame flickered with realisation.

There was still someone missing from the photos.

He began to comb through the pictures quickly. Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Papyrus, Asgore, Sans, Sans, Papyrus, Gaster. Not a trace of anyone else.

Something about the page caught his eye. The picture was of Papyrus burrowing into a knocked over bin, or ‘ _Visiting the_ _trashcan’_ as the description said. But the date was off, four days earlier than the next photo. Grillby squinted. The description hadn’t been written on the album paper; it had a layer of whiteout underneath it. As if someone had needed to completely change the description.

He began to notice more and more pictures like it. Dates out of order, whiteout, remnants of glue at the edges as pictures had been eased out and replaced with others. Stems of pages that had been cut off completely. As if someone had removed pictures, and rearranged others on their place not to leave gaps in the album-

“IT’S RUDE TO SNOOP.”

Grillby startled, his flame flaring, the album almost dropping from his hands.

“Papyrus! Don’t scare me like that!” he chastised, his flame slowly returning to normal. The boy only looked at him impassively.

“And I wasn’t snooping, I just thought I’d take a look at your photo album. Since you were entertaining yourself”, Grillby defended. Then, he added: “You were a cute baby.”

“…I SUPPOSE CUTE BABIES ARE A COMPELLING REASON TO LOOK AT OTHER PEOPLES PHOTO ALBUMS WITHOUT ASKING PERMISSION”, Papyrus said, and Grillby could not for the life of him tell if the boy was being sarcastic or not.

“Can I ask you something?” Grillby glanced at the open pages, the whiteout and the mismatched dates. “Why are some of the pictures removed?”

Papyrus’s eyes widened. His face twisted into an unhappy frown, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

“…FATHER TOOK THE PICTURES OF MOTHER OUT.”

“Your mother?” Grillby prompted, clinging to the prospect of finding out about Gaster’s former. “Why?”

Papyrus shuffled. “…FATHER DOESN’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT IT.”

“So you don’t have _any_ pictures of her?”

“WE DO”, Papyrus said. He glanced around guiltily. “DO… DO YOU WANT TO SEE?”

 

The ladder to the attic creaked under Grillby’s weight. The darkness was full of dim shapes, Grillby’s flickering flame the only thing illuminating the dusty room until Papyrus flipped a light switch.

With knowing steps, Papyrus made his way to a shelf, pulling out a shoebox. He blew a thick layer of dust off it, the small particles dancing in the air.

“FATHER DIDN’T WANT TO THROW ANY OF OUR BABY PICTURES OUT. BUT HE DOESN’T WANT HER TO BE IN THE ALBUM EITHER.”

Papyrus sat down, and after a moment of considering how dirty the floor was, Grillby settled beside him. Papyrus opened the shoebox. With care one would handle a priceless artefact, he picked out a photograph.

“THIS ONE HAS ALL OF US.”

Grillby looked at the picture. It was a classical family portered. Gaster was standing, baby Sans dozing in his arms, face glowing with pride and happiness. On his right was a chair, and on the chair sat a skeleton woman. The resemblance was clear:  she had Papyrus’s small eye sockets and jaw, but the roundness of Sans’s face. It was hard to tell since she was sitting, but she seemed to be on the shorter side, with accentuated curves. The woman was wearing a stylish black dress that had been fashionable back in the day, and wrapped around her head was an equally black silk scarf, the fabric cascading to her shoulders. She was beautiful, Grillby had to admit, in a very conventional, meticulously curated way you’d find on the pages of magazines or on portraits in a gallery.

But what struck Grillby the most was how she was holding baby Papyrus on her lap. Unlike Gaster who was cradling Sans close to his chest, the woman was holding Papyrus far away from her body, near the edge of her leg. While her hands were both holding him, she seemed completely disinterested in the baby, her complete attention directed at the camera, a photogenic smile painted on her face. It was like she might as well have been holding a doll or a pillow.

“HER NAME WAS CANDARA”, Papyrus said quietly. “FATHER MET HER AT AN ART EXHIBITION, AND THEY BOTH WERE EXCITED TO MEET ANOTHER -ANOTHER SKELETON. AND THEN THEY FELL IN LOVE, AND HAD US.”

“Her name _was_ …?” Grillby prompted, unsure if he should.

Papyrus nodded, eyes fixed on the photograph. “SHE DIED. WE WERE JUST BABY BONES.”

“What happened?” Grillby asked carefully.

“…FATHER SAYS HE’LL TELL US WHEN WE’RE OLDER.” Papyrus seemed to deflate, hunch into himself. “IT’S VERY HARD FOR HIM TO TALK ABOUT HER. SO WE DON’T ASK MUCH. IT UPSETS HIM.”

“Papyrus, I…” Grillby wasn’t sure what to say. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder in a gesture he hoped was comforting. “I’m so sorry. It can’t have been easy to tell me. Thank you.”

Papyrus was quiet for a moment, eyeing Grillby with an unreadable expression that made him think of Gaster.

“I DIDN’T REALLY LIKE YOU WHEN FATHER BROUGHT YOU HOME.”

Grillby was taken aback. Papyrus’s tone was blunt, his face neutral. Grillby had no doubt that he was being truthful, and didn’t know how to respond.

“I DON’T THINK YOU ARE A _BAD_ PERSON, PER SE. YOU’RE JUST _TIME-CONSUMING_ ”, Papyrus continued. “FATHER SPENDS ALL EVENING DOING DUMB MUSHY STUFF WITH YOU INSTEAD OF DOING SOMETHING FUN WITH US.”

“Papyrus, I-” Grillby rose to speak for himself. “I’m not trying to take your father away from you, I swear-”

“I KNOW. YOU COULDN’T IF YOU TRIED,” Papyrus stated blasely. “FATHER LOVES US MORE THAN ANYTHING. BUT… WHAT SANS AND I DO TOGETHER IS DIFFERENT FROM WHAT FATHER AND I DO TOGETHER, RIGHT? SO FATHER MUST HAVE STUFF HE CAN’T DO WITH US TOO. AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS WHY HE WANTED TO HAVE YOU AROUND SO MUCH. THAT HE LIKED HAVING AN ADULT FRIEND TO DO BORING ADULT THINGS WITH.”

Papyrus looked down at hands rested on his lap.

“…BUT I THINK YOU MAKE HIM HAPPY”, he said quietly.

“HE SMILES AND LAUGHS MORE. AND HE’S LESS TIRED, HE LETS SANS HELP WHEN HE DOES HIS SCIENCE, AND SHOWS ME COOL ATTACKS. SO.” Papyrus fidgeted with his hands. “I’M… NOT OPPOSED TO YOU BEING AROUND.”

“Papyrus…” Grillby took a moment to order his words.

“There is something I want to tell you”, he said. “I appreciate your honesty. And like I said, I’m not here to take your father away from you.”

“I care about Gaster very, very much. All I want is for him to be happy”, Grillby continued. “And anyone can see how important you two are to him. So, well, we’ll have our differences, but I would like for us to be friends.”

Papyrus stared at Grillby; eye sockets wide. “YOU… YOU’D WANT TO BE MY FRIEND?”

“We don’t have to be _besties_ , but I’d like to get along, at least.”

Papyrus blinked. “I’VE NEVER HAD AN ADULT FRIEND BEFORE.”

Then, a warm smile spread across his face. “YES! WE’LL BE FRIENDS!” he said cheerfully.

Papyrus put the box of photographs away while he prattled excitedly: “SANS IS MY BEST FRIEND AND FATHER IS MY SECOND BEST FRIEND, BUT YOU CAN BE MY THIRD BEST FRIEND! AND THE BEST FRIEND WHO’S NOT FAMILY! UNLESS FATHER MARRIES YOU, THEN YOU’D BE FAMILY?”

“Woah, woah, slow down there. It’s a _little_ early to talk about tying the knot, don’t you think?” Grillby said jokingly.

“YES, YES, SURE, TAKE YOUR TIME.” Papyrus waved his hand dismissively, and Grillby got the feeling there was an unspoken ‘ _just get to it eventually’_ hanging in the air. Grillby sighed internally. Kids and their simplistic concept of relationships…

“So, it’s still a while until Sans and Gaster come back”, Grillby said to derail the topic before Papyrus began to plan the wedding. “Do you wanna do something? Play a game, watch a movie?”

Papyrus thought intently for a second. “WOULD YOU WATCH ‘MY LITTLE BONEY: THE MOVIE’ WITH ME?”

“Sure, why not?” A little off his tastes, but he knew Papyrus would like it.

The boy clapped excitedly, and bounced to the attic latter, flipping the light switch off as he went.

“HAVE YOU PICKED A FAVOURITE BONEY?” he asked.

“I liked that little dragon, does he count?” Grillby said, thinking back to the one episode he’d seen.

“I SUPPOSE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

In those high spirits, they left the attic and settled to watch the movie on the couch.

All in all, Grillby thought his time bonding with Papyrus had gone much better that he ever expected, and was rather pleased about it.


	18. Terrors of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we spend some time in Gaster's head for a change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand I'm terribly sorry I've been forgetting to do the fanart feature! So here they are now, better late than never ^^'
> 
>  
> 
> [This lovely one by dorki-dorki-universe where Gaster sparkles (what is this, Twilight)](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/183358797188/dorki-dorki-universe-happy-birthday)  
> [Collage by GrimFemm with ominous Gaster, blistered Grillby, and puffy marshmallow children](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/183958038973/grimfemm-hey-i-finally-posted-this-stuff)  
> [Ize-bel illustrating the ball room dancing! One of my fave scenes, now with art!](https://anchestor.tumblr.com/post/184777865588/ize-bel-i-finally-finished-this-right-before-i)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so so much for the wonderful art, and so so sorry it took this long to feature you!

The sparkling snow, the dark trees, the crunching footsteps of his next victim.

 _God_ , how he hungered.

As if only yesterday he’d been so diligent, so meticulous, so _careful_. Thoroughly planning and calculating and keeping track, making sure to think through his every hunt. Which were families that could care for each other, which were alone, which he’d recently drank from. The town had been fresh, so full of choices. But now he truly realized just how _small_ it was. Now each and every hunt was an uphill battle, taking longer and longer as he desperately tried to find someone he could feed upon.

Oh how easy things had been when he drank from Grillby! How that sweet warmth had coursed through him, how it had finally filled that bottomless, hungry pit inside him. How strong, how potent the Verve of his Soul was, how readily it yielded.

And now he was fighting for _scraps_.

He was dancing on knives now, he knew that. The tiniest slip, and he’d draw too much attention, raise too many questions, make everything just odd enough to instigate investigation. And exposure was a risk he couldn’t afford.

The monster walking through the forest wasn’t optimal. But he was far past the point where he could afford to care. Who they were, what they were, none of it _mattered_. They were just another beating Soul he could sink his teeth into.

 

 

The dark house looked welcoming after his hunt. He gave a tired smile. Soon, he could rest…

The key turned in the lock, the door opening with a soft click. He tried to keep quiet as he brushed the snow off his shoes, took off his gloves and hang up his jacket. He didn’t turn the light on, the false moonlight seeping through the windows was more than enough for his sharp eyes to navigate in the dark. Silently he proceeded- until the stairs creaked under his weight.

With a barely audible click, a faint light began to shine from underneath the door to the children’s room. Light steps, a sound he knew by heart. The door opened, revealing a small, round figure, holding the flashlight Sans liked to use when he read in bed.

“hi”, Sans said quietly, as if not to break the silence of the night.

“You should be in bed, young man”, Gaster said softly.

Sans didn’t answer right away, just shifting his weight from his toes to his heels. “i heard you come home.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“…i’m hungry”, Sans mumbled.

For a moment, Gaster regarded Sans. Gaster was tired, he wanted to rest. But Sans wouldn’t have gotten up of he didn’t need him.

Wordlessly he approached Sans, gesturing for him to follow to the children’s room. Sans did, padding to the bedside table and placing his flashlight on it, the beam pointing at the ceiling. The white paint reflected the light, the corner of the room now dimly lit.

Gaster sat the empty bed. With his movements practiced and familiar, Sans climbed on his lap, sitting sideways, so that his feet were dangling in the air, just at the edge of the mattress. Gaster wrapped his arm around him, holding him close, supporting Sans so that he wouldn’t fall. The cotton fabric of Sans’s pyjamas was soft under his fingers.

“Comfy?” he whispered, not to wake Papyrus, who was sleeping in the adjacent bed.

Sans nodded, and shut his eyes. Gaster gently cupped Sans’s skull with his hand, closed his eyes, and as he summoned his magic, he pressed a soft kiss on Sans’s temple.

The connection between their Souls came as easy as breathing. Magic bridging, like two pieces of intricate machinery slotting perfectly together. He could feel the contours of Sans’s Soul, it’s smallness, it’s fragility, it’s gentle beat of life, it all clear and close as if he was holding it on the very palm of his hand.

And through their connection, he could feel emotions bleeding over. Trust. Admiration.

Worry.

 _Oh, precious_ , he thought.

And in return, as he began to pour Verve into Sans’s Soul, he let his own emotions flow through. He summoned memories, clinging to them tight.

His pride for a toddler taking his first shaky steps.

His joy as a baby, voice ringing clear like a bell, exclaimed: “daddy!”

His love at a new-born in his arms, breathing light, eyes shut, small and helpless and new, so endlessly, _endlessly_ precious.

Gaster couldn’t show Sans his memories or thoughts. But he knew what he felt shone through, mixing with the life he pushed over their connection. His care, his devotion, everything he could give.

 _Trust me, Sans_ , he wanted to say. _Don’t waste yourself on worrying._

Gently, he broke off bridge between their Souls. He could feel his senses return to reality. The sound if his own breathing. Sans’s weight on his lap. The warmth of the small body in his arms. It had been a long, long time since Gaster had held that new-born from his memories in his arms, tiny and swaddled and sniffling like babies do, but he still couldn’t help but think that the child he held now wasn’t all that different from that tiny being who needed to be so much cared for.

They stayed like that for a while, simply feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chest. A Soul connection, a proper, deep one, based on love and trust like theirs were, was highly intimate. Gaster wondered, not for the first time, if nursing a baby at ones’ breast felt similar. Surely, a connection between Souls was even closer.

He felt Sans beginning to move, and he let him slide off his lap.

Sans looked at him, the lights in his eyes sockets bright in the dim room. He still looked worried.

“…thanks”, he said quietly. “you still have enough for yourself and paps, right?”

“Of course”, Gaster assured. “I’ll feed him tomorrow. As for now, I think it’s high time we both got some sleep.”

Sans nodded. He climbed on the bed, and Gaster tucked him in. He leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss on Sans’s temple. Just a regular kiss of good night, not a drop of Soul magic involved.

Gaster turned off the flash light.

“Sleep well, Sans”, he whispered as he left the dark room.

“g’night.”

 

 

_He was lying on his back, watching as clouds drifted across the sky, white and puffy like cotton candy. The grass of the field was emerald green, the mountains in the distance tall, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the forests surrounding the valley._

_He was happy._

_He closed his eyes, breathing in his surroundings._

_It was a beautiful day. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming._

_On days like this…_

_“Wingdings, look.”_

_The voice cut through the air, soft and sweet. The world went silent, and Gaster froze._

_His eyes flew open._

_He was standing in the middle of a field, the grass yellow and faded, dried up and bristly, the flowers around him wilted. The mountains in the distance dark and imposing, the forest surrounding the valley like a wall. The sky was dark with nightfall._

_And in front of him, just a little further away, she was standing her back towards him, the black silk scarf wrapped around her head cascading to her shoulders like a waterfall._

_Candara turned, smiling to him. In her arms a tiny, snivelling bundle._

_“It’s a girl this time.”_

_He tried to speak, but no sound came out._

_“Look.” She moved the fabric. From between the cloth, a tiny face was peaking, and Gaster saw his own eyes looking back at him. The baby cooed and giggled, it’s jaw like Candara’s, and reached its little hands towards him._

_“Isn’t she beautiful?” Candara’s voice was filled with adoration, her hand reaching to caress the cheek of the baby as she smiled at it lovingly._

_“MOTHER! LET US SEE!” Papyrus demanded, tugging at her skirt._

_“i wanna see our little sister”, Sans asked, running around Candara to get a better look._

_Candara chuckled._

_“Here, boys”, she said as she knelt down._

_Sans gasped. “h-hi…”_

_“HELLO TINY BABY”, Papyrus said softly. “WE’RE YOUR BIG BROTHERS- SANS! SANS, I’M A BIG BROTHER NOW TOO!”_

_“You sure are, sweetie”, Candara said, petting Papyrus’s skull._

_“Come now, Wingdings, don’t just stand there. Don’t you want to hold her?”_

_Gaster wanted to speak, no sound came out. He tried to yell, to scream, to whisper. Silence._

_He reached forward, took a step-_

_Pain cut though him._

_He drew a sharp breath. He looked down. The field wasn’t growing grass, it was covered in large, round glass shards. Like a thousand glass orbs had been smashed on the field, littering it like broken eggshells. Under his foot one such piece of glass had shattered into tiny shards, their sharp edges biting into the sole of his foot._

_“Dearest? What’s wrong?” Candara asked, concerned. “Why aren’t you coming to see our new daughter?”_

_He opened his mouth. No sound came out. He took another step forward-_

_Another shard shattered under his foot, sounding a high-pitched crack, the tiny pieces cutting him painfully._

_“MOMMY! MOMMY, LET US SEE!” Papyrus called._

_“mommy, mommy, please, mommy”, Sans joined him._

_No, no, it was wrong, it was all_ wrong _._

_He stepped forward, trying to keep his movement light, but it was no use. Every time, no matter how careful he was, no matter how slow, no matter what he did, the glass broke, every time the shards tore at his feet._

_Biting through the pain, he walked forward. Every step was like a knife slashing him, like he was stepping at the edge of a sword._

_With every step Candara was further away, as were Sans and Papyrus, circling around her._

_“Windings, come on”, Candara urged cheerfully. “I think she wants you to hold her.”_

Please- Please, I can’t- _he tried to speak, but no sound came out. He walked and walked, the others only further and further away. He walked for hours, he walked for endless distances through the unending field of glass shards. The mountains were black, the forest surrounding the valley barren with gnarled and old trees. When he looked down, he saw that his feet were bleeding, red marrow staining the shards, marking his path. His legs gave out from under him, and he fell onto the broken glass. Pain raked through him. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. All he saw was the broken glass, and the sky as blood red as the slowly growing pool of his marrow underneath him-_

Gaster startled awake, panting, drenched in sweat. He fumbled for the lamp on his nightstand. The light showed the room, his room, with his dark sheets and tall closet and mahogany writing desk.

“A dream”, he whispered through his ragged breaths as he wrapped his arms around himself, holding as tight as he could. “It was only a dream.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

“Screwdriver, please.”

“Screwdriver.”

The tool disappeared into the gaping maw of the machine.

“Shine a light for me? Just a little to the left- right there. Hold it.”

A quiet, metallic clicking noise as Gaster operated. “Aha!”

Gaster pulled himself out of the jukebox, a small piece of machinery in hand. “There’s the culprit!”

“Really?” Grillby asked, excited.

True to his word, Gaster had quickly arranged a time to take a look at Grillby’s broken jukebox. Now, they were both sitting on the floor in front of the large devise, its front panel opened and several parts taken out so the Gaster had room to burrow into the machine. Grillby had of course assisted, handing tools, holding the flashlight, and neatly putting away the cogs and gears and thingamabobs Gaster had removed. They now were sitting in orderly lines on some newspaper, as Grillby didn’t want his floors to get stained with machine oil or whatever grime the jukebox entailed.

“Can you fix it?”

“Of course. The problem is with the arm, it can’t move properly to pick up the vinyl disks- A few new parts, some light hammering to get it in shape, a thorough cleaning, and it’ll be as good as new.”

Grillby clapped. “That sounds much easier than I thought it was going to be!”

A tried smile spread on Gaster’s face. He shimmied away from the jukebox, and sat on the floor, leaning against the back of one of the booths. “I’ll need some tools at home to repair this, but it shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

“By the stars, how lucky am I to have a genius like you dating me?” Grillby settled next to Gaster.

Gaster chuckled. “Oh, solving a small mechanics problem like that is hardly a feat of genius.”

“Still.” Grillby leaned in, hovering close to Gaster’s face. He dropped his voice low as he spoke: “Such quick work deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

“Oh?” Gaster said, a sly grin tugging at his mouth, his eyes glancing at Grillby’s lips. “What kind of reward?”

“How about…” Grillby abruptly stood up, striding to the bar. “A nice cup of coffee!”

“Oh, you-” Gaster sputtered, then laughed. “You tease!”

Grillby winked playfully, making a point to swing his hips as he circled to his side of the bar.

“You liked it strong, right? No milk or sugar?” he asked as he began to load the coffee machine.

“No, Grillby, I can’t drink it”, Gaster said quickly. “My allergies, remember?”

“Oh?” Grillby furrowed his brow. “But you ordered a cup when you came here the first time, didn’t you? Right after we met.”

“Uhm. Yeah. I, I did.” Gaster was suddenly avoiding eye contact.

“Why did you ask for coffee you couldn’t have?” Grillby pressed on, curious.

“It’s, well, a bit silly, to be honest.” Gaster’s face was flushing. He looked embarrassed.

“Come on, Gaster, tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“It’s just…” Gaster was looked coy, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “When we first met, in the forest, I... Well. I had a good feeling about you. And wanted to see if my instincts were right. Coming here for a cup seemed like a straightforward excuse to talk to you… And I figured I could just pretend the coffee was too hot or had gotten cold or that I had just forgotten to drink it.”

Grillby looked at Gaster, letting the words sink in. “You… You decided you wanted to get to know me, right after we’d met? Just like that?”

“I have a knack for assessing character.” Gaster smiled at him fondly. “You have a good Soul, Grillby.”

Grillby felt his flame burning high, his cheeks warming. “You charmer…”

(Perhaps it was a little strange, Grillby would think later once he wasn’t swept up in the Gaster’s words. A quick, chance meeting and already wanting to make friends? But then again, with what a wonderful thing their relationship had blossomed into, did it really matter that its initial start was a little unusual?)

“So, if you can’t drink coffee, is there something else I can treat you to? Maybe tea?” Grillby asked.

Gaster hesitated.

“Could I- Oh, no, never mind.” Gaster fidgeted.

“What?”

“It’s weird…”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Tell me”, Grillby urged.

Gaster closed his eyes, and breathing out a long sigh.

“Could you put some coffee grounds into a cup for me?”

Grillby sparked, surprised. “Just coffee grounds?”

“You don’t have to”, Gaster said quietly. “I told you it was weird.”

Grillby tilted his head, regarding the assortment he had on the counter in front of him. The measuring spoon, the cups, the bag of coffee. He took one of the cups, and spooned a few scoops of coffee grounds into it, just so that they covered the bottom of the cup.

Without a word, he circled the bar, cup in hand, and offered it to Gaster.

“Here.”

Gaster had observed him as he moved, and slowly reached his hand for the cup. He took it and held it close to his chest. Gaster looked into it, shook it gently so that the coffee grounds moved around a little, and then brought it to his face. He smelled it, taking a long whiff. Then, he smiled.

“Thank you”, Gaster said politely, cradling the cup in his hands like anyone would, but knowing that it was devoid of any warm drink made the gesture feel odd.

Grillby settled next to Gaster, sitting on the floor again. Gaster kept sniffing the coffee grounds, seemingly content. Then, he noticed the look Grillby was giving him.

“…Too weird?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, no…” Grillby said, voice trailing off. “I mean, it’s… A little out there. But I work in a bar, I get weird orders all the time.” None did come to his mind, but he was pretty sure someone sniffing coffee grounds wasn’t to weirdest thing he’d seen.

Gaster looked into his cup. “I’ve always liked the smell of coffee. I wish I could actually drink it. It seems so nice. Having a hot drink every morning, the liquid warm in your belly, the taste, all the different things you can do with flavor syrups and milk and cream… Having a cup to hold in your hands and spoon to stir it with.”

He sniffed his cup again. “It must look so weird… But it’s the closest I can get to the real thing.”

Grillby paused.

“It must be hard, having so many allergies”, he said in a tone he hoped was sympathetic.

They sat silently. Gaster was staring off into the distance.

“Does it bother you? That I’m… strange?”

“Strange?” Grillby said. “How so?”

“You have to admit, I am… odd.” Gaster pulled his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees.

“I can’t really eat much anything. I study many unusual things, magic and Souls and energy, trying to weave them all together in my laboratory. I’m a father raising my children alone, you’ve never even asked about that. My font looks completely unreadable, I have holes in my hands and scars on my face.” Gaster finally looked Grillby in the eye. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Would… Would it bother you if I was stranger still?”

Grillby studied Gaster’s face, the distress hidden in his features. He remembered a time, long long ago, when elementals were new and unusual. When he’d felt weird amidst monsters. How badly he’d wanted to be just someone you wouldn’t look twice at, how badly he’d wanted to feel _normal_.

“You’re not strange”, Grillby said softly. He brought his hand to Gaster’s face, cupping his cheek with his palm bringing his flame to a comforting warmth.

“You’re not odd or weird. You have allergies that restrict you, you have a job you like, you’re a good parent to your sons. I don’t know what this font talk is, I can’t see your words, so why would it change anything about you? Many have scars or unique body shapes; those don’t make you strange.” Grillby leaned his forehead against Gaster’s. “I’ve never asked because I didn’t want to pry. I figured you’d tell me if and when you wanted to.”

“Grillby…” There was something sad under his voice.

“You’re not strange.” Grillby nuzzled Gaster’s face. “You’re not.”

“Grillby, I-” Gaster pulled back.

Then, suddenly his head snapped in the direction of the door, his face focused.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Grillby listened carefully. Now that his attention was on it, he could tell that there was some kind on commotion coming from outside, muffled by the walls, but distinctly distressed.

He stood up, making his way to the door, Gaster at his heels. Was someone in trouble?

The cool air hit him as he exited the bar. There was a crowd gathering on the street, near the Gyftmas tree. All the people were talking over each other, craning their necks to see. Some parents were taking their children by then hand, adamantly leaning them away. The guard was there, Grillby could see the tall stature of Greater Dog, and the dark cloaks of Dogamy and Dogaressa. He could catch a glimpse of a green striped scarf next to them.

He spotted Bonnie, the shopkeeper, at the edge of the crowd.

“Bonnie!” he called out, hurrying to her. He saw she was trembling.

“Oh, Grillby, it’s terrible-!” she said, choking up.

“What’s going on?” He asked urgently.

“It’s the mouse family. The- The father went missing last night, they think he got lost in the forest-” Bonnie’s voice quivered.

“They’ve found his dust.”


	19. Holy ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I which there is a lil lover spat.

Grillby was walking back from the store when he spotted them. Standing next to the northern road, not far from Grillby’s. The little mouse had burrowed so far into their scarf only their eyes and ears peeked from underneath their beanie. Next to them was a nacarat jester, their friend, Grillby remembered.

“-maybe we could go get cinnamon buns from the store?” he overheard the small devil say.

“I don’t want a cinnamon bun”, the little mouse answered, their voice shaking. “I want _my papa._ ”

Grillby hesitated. He wanted to walk up to them, offer some comfort. Tell them he was sorry for their loss.

What could he _possibly_ say to make _any_ of it better?

Clutching the paper bag in his hand, Grillby grabbed the door handle of his bar and entered the building.

“Hi”, he called out quietly, to alert Gaster of his presence.

Gaster was kneeling on the floor in front of the jukebox, right where Grillby had left him, carefully reassembling its pieces.

“Hi”, Gaster answered, not looking up from the jukebox. “Did you get the big screws?”

Wordlessly Grillby handed the paper bag to Gaster.

“Thank you. I’ll be done in just a minute.”

Grillby sat at the bar, idly watching as Gaster fed the machinery of the jukebox, then finally took the front piece and put it back to where it belonged, screwing it firmly in place with the screws Grillby had just brought.

“That ought to do it”, Gaster said, a self-satisfied grin tugging at his mouth.

“Mmh.” Grillby knew the little mouse was still outside. Just how many times the child had been offered condolences this week? Just today? What of their mother?

“-a song? Grillby…? Grillby!”

He startled form his thoughts, Gaster staring expectantly at him all of a sudden. “Mhm?”

“I said, do you want to pick the first song to try out the jukebox?” Gaster frowned.

“Are you alright?”

Grillby thought for a moment. Was he?

“I’m fine”, he finally said. “Just thinking about the mouse father.”

“…Oh.” Gaster looked unsure. Then he settled on a barstool next to Grillby.

“Did you know him well?”

“No”, Grillby admitted. “But it’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

“It’s just- Just a few days ago, he was sitting here with his kid! Right in that booth! Just talking and eating and laughing, and now-” A tremor went through his body. “And now he’s _gone_.”

Gaster placed a hand on Grillby’s shoulder. “It’s always unpleasant to be reminded of one’s mortality.”

Grillby’s flame flickered at the words. He turned his head towards Gaster, and _glared_. He shook the other’s hand off his shoulder.

“You think this is about that? That I worry about _my_ death? _Really_ _?_ ”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that”, Gaster said, raising his hands placatingly. “I just figured- Since he wasn’t a friend, I didn’t think you’d be that upset about-”

“You thought-? You thought that I wouldn’t be upset that someone _died_?” Grillby even surprised himself with the agitation in his voice. His nerves must have been pushed more than he thought.

“Well, yes.”

Grillby stared at Gaster, _stared_. Trying to figure out who the skeleton sitting next to him was.

Gaster sighed. “I’m sorry. That must sound terrible to you. But keep in mind that I’m a doctor. When you work with the elderly, the injured, with people where there’s nothing you can do to help- The novelty of death does wear off quickly.”

“’The novelty of death’?” Grillby quoted, spitting the words out like they tasted fowl.

“You _have to_ get desensitized to it, to some degree at least”, Gaster said calmly. “None of us could help anyone if we spent our time mourning our lost patients-”

“ _Well this is not a hospital!_ ” Grillby barked. He was getting angry; he could feel it. “How can you be so cold about this! Do you have no sympathy?”

“Can you even being to imagine how _they_ feel? There’s a kid out there who just lost a parent, a spouse who’s now a widow! Just think what that’s like-”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Grillby realized what he’d just said.

Gaster sat in place, frozen. As still as a marble statue.

“Oh- Oh stars, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-” Grillby scrambled.

“Sorry for what, Grillby?” Gaster’s voice was hollow.

“…Papyrus told me about her.” Grillby wrapped his fingers around his arm, holding tight, unsure what to do with his body. “About Candara.”

“I see.”

Silent, with slow, deliberate movements, Gaster stood up.

“Gaster, I-”

With one fluid motion Gaster raised his hand, silencing Grillby. He didn’t look him in the eye.

“No. Not now.”  Gaster sighed deeply, looking away. “Someday, I’ll tell you about her myself. But not now. Not when you’re like this. And when I can only say the wrong things to you.”

Moving like his body was a machine, automated and somehow just a little unnatural, Gaster took his bag and walked off to the door.

“We can talk later.”

The door shut loudly after him, leaving a gust of icy air behind.

 

~~~~~~~

 

The night was cold in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t the dull gust of coolness he was so familiar with. It wasn’t a cold that bit into him, chewed on his bones, leaving a prickling sensation on his face.

No. This was a cold that seeped from deep within his own marrow.

It had been easy to find some sentries to talk to. The dogs weren’t too bright, honestly. A few pretty words and concerned faces, and they’d told him all they knew.

That there had been no signs of struggle. No strange footprints or smells. It all was covered by the freshly fallen snow.

Gaster had thanked them politely, and left for the forest.

It didn’t take him long to find the spot. It had been a clearing like any other, just a little further in the forest than most monsters would wonder. Now the snow was trampled solid, as the canine unit had walked around, investigating, and as the dust had been collected.

He idly wondered how they’d done it. Snow wasn’t a surface they could simply sweep clean.

He didn’t bother looking around any further. He wouldn’t find signs or smells or evidence the canine unit hadn’t already. But there was one thing he could do.

Gaster closed his eyes, and concentrated. He guided his magic, imagined letting it spread like thin mist across the forest, and he listened.

There. He felt it, more than heard it. The soft beat of a Soul.

He grabbed onto the sensation, focusing on it by all his will. Pressing the distance and direction to his memory. The Soul stood still.

He opened his eyes. He was being waited for.

Gaster began to walk.

Soon he arrived at the end of the tree line. The snowy path became a thin bridge, leading to a cliff overseeing the forest down below, and somewhere far, the glimmering windows of Snowdin. And there, at the edge of the cliff, silhouetted by those shining lights, stood a lone figure.

A figure with a pitch-black silk scarf wrapped around her head, cascading to her shoulders like a waterfall.

“And here I thought I’d never see you again.”

Candara turned, and smiled.

“A lovely evening, isn’t it, Wingdings?”

He didn’t answer. He kept his eyes fixed on the woman standing across him.

He had known, hadn’t he? Who else could it possibly had been? Nevertheless, he’d hoped…

“You’re violating the Law of Territory.” He was careful to keep his voice steady. Passionless.

“I’m just passing through, dearest.” She sounded so sweet. Like honey, smooth and sticky.

“You killed someone.” She hadn’t change at bit, he noticed. Still wearing long stylish dresses, and the way her scarf was wrapped around her head was the same. “You’ve caused alert on my territory, risking exposure and making hunting more difficult.”

“I didn’t mean to”, she said dismissively with a coquettish shrug. “I was hungry. You out of all people should know what it’s like. And besides, it’s not like you need the hunting grounds, not with that little elemental you’ve been playing around with…”

Gaster narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear. I saw that little collar you put on him. You've staked your claim, I’m not going to lay a finger on him.” She smirked. “He must be quite the plaything. I would have eaten his Soul a long time ago, it must have been soft enough for you a while now. But I do suppose you always liked to toy around with them. Quite the plaything, indeed…”

“Why are you here?” Gaster’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Candara wouldn’t have bothered to find him, to bait him like this without a reason.

She smiled and stepped closer. Gaster willed himself not to step back.

“For you, dearest.” Her eyes sparkled in the night, just like they used to. “For us.”

“Us?” It took much more than he would have wanted to keep his voice blank.

He could feel her eye roaming across him, taking in every feature.

“I’ve missed you, Wingdings. I’ve missed you so, so much.” Her face became sad. “You broke my heart that day, my dearest. After everything we’d been through together, after everything I’d done for you- I thought you only needed a moment to calm down. That you’d come back to me when you realized- But you never did. So here I am.”

She stepped closer again. Close enough to touch.

“I want you back, Wingdings.”

“And why would this time be any different?” Derision was slowly seeping into his voice. “What about _them_?”

Candara averted her eyes, gripping her arm with her hand. A gesture of insecurity.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I should have told you how neglected I felt after we had Sans and Papyrus. How they were all you could see, like I didn’t even matter to you anymore. I realize how foolish that was of me. They were just infants, of course they need all that attention. But they’re older now.”

“And don’t you think we should try again, for them exactly?” She reached her hand forward, to touch his cheek. “Don’t our sons deserve to finally meet their mother-?”

He swatter her hand away, the motion so quick he barely even realized it himself. Suddenly the cold in his marrow was turned into burning anger.

“You forfeit the right to call yourself their mother a _long_ time ago”, he _snarled_.

“Now _leave_.”

Candara stared at him, eyes widening.

“Very well.” She stepped closer, leaning her face towards his. Gaster couldn’t help but step back, suddenly aware how close to the edge of the cliffside he’d gotten. Backed into a corner.

“I can see when I’m not wanted. But don’t forget about me, Wingdings”, she whispered. “You’re contending yourself with your new toy for now, but you know what happens when you get too attached to them. And that your secrets won’t keep forever.”

She finally leaned back, and began to walk to the direction of the trees. Gaster slowly released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Good night, Wingdings”, Candara called as she went, turning her head to look at him. She smiled.

“Oh, and watch your step. The ice is slippery.”

The softest _ting!_ , a gentle grip of blue on his Soul, the slightest push. Gaster stepped back, searching his balance- only to tread empty air. He could feel his body tilting backwards, his feet clamoring for purchase in the loose snow- All for nothing.

With a final, desperate shout, he fell thought the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...the title was supposed to reference like, the Law of Territory thing? Okay it's bit of a weak tie-in, but there are only a limited number of vampire lore bits that have anything to do with anything.
> 
> So, judging by the comments, the whole "Did Gaster kill someone??" fake-out didn't fool that many people? Well at least the other reveal of the chapter came as a surprise ^^
> 
> Oh, and while I don't reply to comments a ton (I don't wanna spoil something accidentally, also there are only so may was to say "Thanks! I really appreciate it!"), I do greatly appreciate each and every one! Thanks guys, especially the ones who comment regularly ^^

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing a multi chapter fic, so I'd really appreciate feedback! Comments in general really help with keeping the writing motivation up. Just saying ;)
> 
> If you wanna come say hi on Tumblr, [it's also called Anchestor](https://anchestor.tumblr.com)!


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